Dark Shadows Rising
by Wedjatqi
Summary: ALLIANCE FIC - COMPLETE They thought Iketani was dead, but she's back and she's not happy. Meanwhile Atlantis finally takes up the offer to visit Athos. John/Teyla. Sequel to 'Convergence of Acquaintances' therefore still a prequel to 'Late Night Visitor
1. Mada

**Warnings:** AU world, violence, death, sexual content  
><strong>Disclaimers<strong>: I earn no money from this and I own no part of the canon Stargate world, only the characters that I create for myself.  
><strong>Spoilers<strong>: Set in established AU world, set in equivalent time to late season 2/early season 3.

**Note:** And the Alliance fics are back! This is going to be another long one, but I plan to get at least one chapter out a week, maybe more some weeks, depending on my work and family schedule. I recommend perhaps going back over the fics set prior to this one, 'First Contacts' and 'Convergence of Acquaintances', or at least the last chapters of CofA, because even I had to look up details to remind myself of the details I've created! I've had to draw up an Alliance encyclopaedia for myself.

**Note2: **I have purposefully, as you may have noticed, given nothing away with the summary of this fic, just some hints, because I hope you'll all enjoy the story as it unfolds. All I can promise is that I've got it all worked out, half written already, and that there will be surprises (hopefully), angst, death, a juggler, lots of Ketra, a kiss or two, and maybe a wedding…

**Note3: **This fic is dedicated to those of you who have been determined enough to keep nudging me to write this one, but sweet enough to do it gently. Much love, Wedjatqi XXX

**Chapter One - Mada**

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_Iketani's underground bunker on the planet Mada_

The air was thick with the ever increasing levels of smoke that were filtering down from above, creating a thick dangerous cloud that crawled along the ceiling above him. The air was growing warmer and tasted badly even through the strip of damp fabric he had tied over his nose and mouth. But, despite his fears and the instinuctal compulsion to just run far away from the billowing heat that was devouring the house above, he stepped further into the bunker's entrance.

Bodies littered the floor, pieces of Wraith cut and scattered around him. His stomach rebelled, turning over and threatening to empty. He swallowed that instinct as well, for he had survived far worse. He stepped forward, setting his foot carefully over the twisted shoulder of a dead Wraith. It was dead, he was sure of it, yet years of fear imprinted on him since from his childhood made him suspicious and ready for the monster to come alive again to kill him.

However, the Wraith did not move, none of them did, so gasping loudly through the wet rag over his mouth, he put one foot in front of the other, moving around the open torso of another monster. In his mind he knew this was a sight to be celebrated, but in his gut he just wanted to run. The smell of death and Wraith had made its way, along with burning ash, into his breath, but he kept moving forward. His boot slipped briefly under him in a gathered pool of dark liquid. They were Wraith, he reminded himself over and over as he walked on, stepping over severed Wraith limbs. One arm shifted as he passed and he froze, eyes locked down on the pale fingers frozen in a half clawed position as if the monster had been about to grab it's victim. It was one less monster that could kill others. His stomach did not listen to such logical thought and the nausea only grew as he came upon a pile of more severed limbs, and he ran his eyes nervously over the pile, fearing to find a human's hand among the monsters'.

He edged closer to the pile, moving around it only for his eyes to meet those of a decapitated Wraith head. Cold dead alien eyes stared wide open at him, staring at him. He fixed his gaze with that horrific image, walking backwards away from it, uncaring as to the blood and bits of bodies he kicked out of the way. Instincts born of a lifetime of fear, kept his eyes on the Wraith head and with a childlike fear of the shadows he waited for it to rise up fully formed again from the pile of death.

He kept moving away, circling round out of the line of sight of the Wraith head, until he had circled far enough away that the dead eyes could no longer be seen. He breathed heavier, panting through the rag, his vision diminishing slightly with lack of fresh air and his own terror. He edged back further and forced his gaze across the floor away from the Wraith head.

A flash of pure colour among the death and ugliness caught his eye and all fear and panic fled.

Her hair, pure gold and sunlight lay over a Wraith, and he rushed forward, the limbs and bodies forgotten, now only obstacles towards her. As he neared he could see that half of her hair was tainted, covered in Wraith blood, but as he reached her side, he realised it was also her own. Panic and despair filled his chest as he dropped down into a crouch beside her body, into a patch strangely clear of obstacles, as if someone else had made room before him to look down at her.

She lay on her front, the deep pool of blood soaked into her clothes, and her face was turned from him. He reached out with a shaking hand and carefully, gently, brushed her hair aside. Her pale cheek came into view and he bent over her, eager to see her eyelashes move, but they remained unnaturally still against her far too pale cheek. The panic swelled up higher, he was too late, but he kept pulling her hair away to clear his view of her and he reached down carefully to her throat, seeking out her pulse of life. Her skin was cold, far too cold for one who should breathe. He pressed his fingers tight to her skin and felt nothing. He felt further around her neck, fearing he was foolishly feeling in the wrong place. He found the central column of her throat and set his fingers against the dip beside it. Again nothing. He pressed his fingers deeper, hoping, praying.

The faintest of sensations moved under his fingers and he held his breath, as if that noise may scare away the sensation. He waited and felt the movement again. She still lived, but perhaps had only moments left.

The plan had been clear in his mind before now, repeated by her to him many times to make sure he remembered, but in this moment he had needed no such repetition, he knew what he had to do with a determination that he had never felt before. She had saved him from the Wraith and he would not fail her now.

Filled with renewed strength and confidence, he pulled on her arm, turning her towards him, and he slid his arms under her, the blood covering his hands. As he pulled her into his arms he paused, shocked as the other side of her face came into view. His beautiful saviour! A deep raw gash cut up from her chin, up one side of her face. His stomach once again promised to turn over his late meal, but he closed his eyes and lifted her up into his arms. She was too heavy, telling him that not a single muscle in her body held any tension. He stood though, shifting her against him, uncaring about the blood now soaking into his clothes – he had to save her, to follow her plan. He strode as fast as he could through the piles of Wraith remains towards the far narrow entrance to the tunnel beyond, which continued to pour out a steady cloud of dark ugly smoke. He resisted his instinctual urge to turn, to move away from the danger ahead, but she would surely die, if she had not already passed in his arms. He hurried his steps, only briefly noticing that one body he passed was that of a Queen. His saviour likely had killed the evil creature.

He had to turn his body to carry her with in into the tight space of the tunnel, the smoke hanging and crawling above his head. He should have changed the rag over his face, but it was too late now, he had to save her. he glanced up at the dancing smoke high above his head that had made it's way down here from the house above. It lacked the truly dark nature of cruel smoke - he still had time. He had to have enough time.

He splashed through the small damp chamber halfway along the tunnel system and headed straight on into the next tunnel, where more Wraith bodies and fallen masonry hindered his steps, but he forged onwards. Ahead he could see the air was growing thicker with smoke from the fire raging above. He prayed that she had been able to implement the most important factor of this plan or all of his effort for her would be in vain and they would both die down here. The tunnel turned and the small chamber containing the exit up into the bunker appeared, but more importantly, the Wraith cages remained locked to the right. Inside three of the four cages, as planned, the Wraith inside were not dead, though one was clearly still stunned. She had stunned them not killed them, as planned, as she had exited the bunker. There was hope.

With relief, though coughing loudly, he released her legs down so he had one hand free. He reached around behind his back and pulled out the Alliance energy weapon and raised it towards the two conscious Wraith.

"One of you gets to live," he shouted through the rag, his voice gruff from the smoke. "Whichever one of you returns life to her, will be freed. Who will it be?" He demanded of the caged Wraith that had been her prisoners and test subjects for many months.

He feared that fact would prevent this plan from being successful, but she had repeatedly reassured him that Wraith would always betray each other for a chance to be free. He stared down his raised weapon towards the two sets of the pale yellow monstrous eyes.

One pair of eyes dropped to her in his arms, held limping against his body, and it sneered.

"You expect us to give her life?" It demanded with sarcasm that seemed foolish considering that the descending smoke would just as soon kill these Wraith as it would him.

"There's no way out of here for you. Except this way. One of you. Who will it be?" He shouted at them, trying to ignore the sounds of destruction above as the house and possibly now the upper levels of the bunker were collapsing.

The local peoples had finally realised the main focus of the Wraith had been directed on the house above the bunker and had retaliated, even though the Wraith fighters had gone. The fire would purge away everything from being discovered at least. He just had to pray that it would not take him and his mistress as well.

"Which one?" He demanded, turning his panic towards his mission. His hand was shaking, but his resolve was strong as he swung the weapon from one Wraith to the other.

The Wraith who had spoken before sneered again, its eyes dropping to the weapon. "Then bring her closer and I will do as you wish."

He wasn't fooled by that. The monster simply wished to kill him and finish off his Mistress.

"Your cages can only be opened from the controls set on that far wall," he reminded them. "If you kill me you will never escape and will die down here."

The Wraith lifted its upper lip, baring its deformed teeth. "You think we would give her life, after what she did? Foolish human. However, if you let us go, then we will spare you. That is your only hope."

He managed to laugh at that ridiculous offer. "No, I can turn round and leave you here."

The Wraith narrowed its eyes at him. "And leave your mistress to die? I think not."

"Save her and you get to live, or refuse and die," he repeated to them. "Which will it be?"

The Wraith lowered its gaze to her in his arms, its gaze narrowing with assessment. "She has but a moment left, her wounds too deep. She should not have starved us, perhaps then we may have been able to save her, but-"

The Wraith did not get to finish its point, for the Wraith in the cage next to it stretched its hand through the shared wall of bars between their cages and slammed its hand against the other Wraith's chest. The talking Wraith's words were stolen from its throat as it turned towards the other Wraith who was now stealing its life.

He watched in horror, breathing as calmly as he could, his eyes drifting up to the growing smoke above. He looked back to see the second Wraith pull its hand free, the body falling dead to the floor of the cage. The fed Wraith turned towards him, as in the furthest cage the last Wraith was waking.

"Open the cage," the fed Wraith ordered.

He wavered, the weapon still raised. "You give her back her life, return her to how she was, and_ then_ I will let you go."

The Wraith tilted its head. "You will simply leave me here. Why should I believe you will free me if I do as you wish?"

He glanced up towards the descending smoke. "I do not care about you. One Wraith in the town, you can take your fill of the local people. You give her life and I will let you out. You have no choice."

The Wraith narrowed its eyes and then dipped his chin in something close to a confirming nod.

He shifted forward, holding his mistress between him and the Wraith, the weapon still raised as best as he could. The Wraith stretched out one clawed hand through the bars towards the Mistress. He moved just close enough for the Wraith to touch her and watched as the Wraith set its hand over her throat and connected to her. The Wraith hissed and abruptly she gasped in his arms, her body shaking against his and he almost dropped the weapon in relief.

The Wraith dropped its hand, leaving the Mistress still limp though now clearly breathing.

"Why have you stopped? Heal her!" He commanded the Wraith.

The Wraith bared its teeth. "The other did not lie to you – we are too weak. I have given her enough to survive."

He looked down at his Mistress, barely conscious in his arms, her cheek still cut and raw, though now he could see fresh blood oozing from the wound. "Heal her completely!" He ordered the Wraith, but had to stop to cough, the smoke now filling the room and a new sense of nausea began in his stomach.

The Wraith looked up at the thickening cloud filling the small chamber, and from above, there was the distinctive sound of something structural collapsing. The ceiling shifted, dust joining the smoke over them.

"I have nothing more to give her, unless you release me and I feed on him," the Wraith suggested, looking through the cages to the last captured Wraith, who hissed at them.

He tried to think what to do, but the Wraith was right – the Mistress had starved them and no doubt it had taken from the other Wraith to sustain itself, and had given of that to bring her back to life.

"Let me feed on him and I will heal her further," The Wraith offered.

He had no choice. He moved away towards the wall with the controls, the weapon raised and his other arm tight around his weak Mistress. She may no longer be near the moment of death, but she was not healed enough. He touched the control to the cage and it swung open. The Wraith hissed as it emerged and turned away towards the far cage. The Wraith inside hissed back, only for the freed Wraith to turn away abruptly and in a flash of movement it had disappeared out of the small room into the tunnels. The Wraith had betrayed him!

The final Wraith, spared being fed upon, looked round at him with what looked like relieved amusement. He fired at it, stunning it only, but it dropped the creature to the floor.

He wrapped his arms protectively around his Mistress. He had run out of time and all there was to do was get her to safety now. Get her to the escape vessel and hope that the Wraith had given her enough life to allow her to heal.

Finally able to run from the billowing smoke, the blood and death around him, he lifted his Mistress higher against him and ran for the tunnels. There was nothing to do but chance the fact that the escaped Wraith might be waiting for them outside the bunker. He had the stunner still and he had the determination and relief that, for now at least, his Mistress breathed.

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>TBC - (Should have chapter 2 up tomorrow)<p> 


	2. Fear

**Note:** Wow, guys, thank you so much for such an encouraging response to chapter 1! Thank you

**Chapter 2 – Fear**

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_Four weeks later_

It was a pleasant day, the sky a beautiful greenish blue, with not a single cloud to be seen in any direction. The sunshine was strong, but not too hot in keeping with season. Beyond the town, the fields of grain and vegetables were growing strong and healthy. The bront beasts in their pen grumbled happily as they feasted on tava leaves. It should be the most relaxing of days, and one in which normally the sunshine and the steadily growing harvest should mean that long walks, games, and dancing could be enjoyed. A day in which life should be embraced and celebrated. However, through the bright sunlit air voices only rose in agitation and, in many cases, with anger.

The threat that brought out these fearful responses was still an unseen one, but with each snippet of gossip from trading partners, it grew stronger each day. It had been festering like an ulcerating wound, growing deeper and rotting away what normally was strong and resistant.

Eous looked over the massive gathering of his people, convened together from all the local towns. It seemed that almost everyone had attended the open meeting decreed by the Elders. A festering wound must never be ignored, so today it was to be addressed directly and as a strong community, they would decide on the best course of action to take.

However, it seemed to Eous that the people sat pressed together across the open yard, seemed somewhat unwilling to listen and speak logically today. Children sat strangely silent or crying on parents' knees, frightened by the adults' raised voices and the nervous energy pervading the meeting. It seemed that this ulcer was far more corrupted than anyone had realised.

"We _must_ do something!" A male voice stated loudly over another who had been talking.

Down the long table at which Eous sat, a pale-skinned aged hand lifted. "Erinnyes, son of Ethera family the wall builders, we have respect when others speak. You will have the time for your words once Thian, daughter of Ang family the roof makers, has finished her words."

Erinnyes sat back down with a grumbled expression, but all respected Orestus, the Elder of the Erlon Family the bead makers. Eous glanced back to Orestus' aged yet strong hands again. Eous suspected that no one in Orestus' family had made beads in many generations, but tradition of address was important. Eous just felt it made conversations far too lengthy and today his own patience felt greatly stretched, and he was considered the most understanding of men. It was that opinion of him that had led to his appointment as the youngest Elder. It was a title that he felt uncomfortable under, but his wife and children looked so proudly at him and he knew that he had to accept the honour he had been given by his people.

"As I was speaking," Thian continued with a glance back at Erinnyes, "I spoke with my sister's husband who, as you all know, now lives on the planet of Anvari. They are close traders over many generations with the Themis people who, as we all know, no one has heard from in three turns of the lunars."

Eous struggled to contain his bubbling impatience. Why were his people so inclined to long dramatic sentences? He wondered some days that he was only seen as a man of thoughtful action because he spoke far quicker than most. Eous pulled in a deep breath and drew together his patience as he focused back on Thian's words.

"…the man is now on Anvari. He reported that the sky of Themis burned and that fire fell from the skies," Thian continued, her dramatic speech growing far more interesting to those around her. Eous could see the panic rising in their expressions. This was not what was needed this day. "Then after two long turns of their lunars, several men, coated in blood from head to foot, arrived on Themis, stating that Themis was now owned by the Alliance. They were told to surrender half their harvest and half their grown children to serve as slaves!"

Shouts of fear and anger were Thian's applause and she sat down looking rather satisfied that her story had been received so dramatically in turn. She rose up again briefly to shout through the others towards the Elders. "That will be our future as well!" She sat back down, now fully satisfied she had had her say.

Orestus lifted his hands for calm, as did many along the Elders' table. "My people, my people," Orestus commanded in his deep strong voice, that despite his advancing years had not declined in volume. Everyone responded, settling down back, but their eyes and expressions held no less fear.

"My People," Orestus continued. "This story is harsh to hear to be sure. I have several cousins on Themis and I fear for them, but it is important that we, as the strong people that we are, use this time gathered together to decide on what would be the best action for us to take."

A man halfway back through the seated crowd rose up to his feet, his arm held straight up, demanding the right to respond.

Orestus stopped his calming words and nodded with restrained reluctance. "Cyon, son of the Delos family the chime makers, speak your words."

Cyon worked as a farmer and trader, and was excessively strong voice and opinion, and clearly had never held a chime let alone made one.

"What action is there to take?" Cyon demanded. "The Alliance are spreading their reach and will simply engulf our world as they pass us by. What action is there to take except to surrender everything to them or to fight?" The rush of response to that was ambiguous in reaction, and Eous had to wonder if his noble people were truly suggesting that they fight the Alliance.

"You want to fight the Alliance warriors?" Someone from the crowd asked loudly over the rest and the overriding voice of the crowd immediately turned in agreement.

Cyon looked across the seated faces. "Are we instead to sit and wait for the fire to rain down upon us from the sky?" He asked dramatically, his arms held up towards the bright clear sky above them. All eyes glanced up worriedly towards that beautiful greenish blue.

Eous leant his elbows on the somewhat warped wooden Elder table and lifted his voice just enough to be heard. "Have we not always faced the fear of death from the skies?" He asked and the voices dropped away to listen to him. At least as an Elder, Eous was listened to most of the time. "The Wraith have culled our people for more generations that any can recount. We have never reacted with such blind fear and panic before."

Expressions shifted before him, some realising his point and gathering their panicked concerns under control again. Others, however, did not. Cyon set his fists on his hips and spoke directly towards Eous.

"At least the Wraith do not take everything from us. We can hide from them, and we have methods that have worked for generations to lessen the number of us they take. But, the Alliance will take everything they wish!"

"Are you arguing on the side of the Wraith, Cyon, son of the Delos family the chime makers?" Eous asked. He knew well that Cyon's older family, as had Eous's, had all in turn been culled by the Wraith.

The voices all quietened and many glared up at Cyon far too harshly. Cyon, for his part, seemed checked by Eous' point, but the fight was not out of him yet.

"No, of course I would never argue such a thing, but I mean to say that the Alliance is a far more insidious enemy. We cannot hide from them."

"But there would be no more cullings under the Alliance," someone shouted across the yard and many nodded their agreement.

"Are we to surrender our very food and children to them in return?" Cyon demanded to the crowd. "Are we so terrified of the Wraith that we would give away our children to slavery?"

"Perhaps we would not have to give away our children?" A female voice from somewhere towards the back suggested. "Perhaps we could offer bront beasts for meat or…"

"Negotiate with the Alliance?" Cyon asked doubtfully. "They take what they want."

"My third cousin lives on an Alliance world," another female voice responded and all eyes moved across to a young woman who stood up to speak.

"Arion, daughter of the Ptoan family of the plough, you may speak your words," Orestus announced.

Arion stood up tall and paused as she looked out at the crowd around her.

"My third cousin works as a trader for her second husband's world within the Alliance. She lives a wonderful life; she trades with more planets than we even know. She has food for all her children, has a sturdy house that she knows that if anyone were to break into then she feels protected by strongly held laws that would protect her and punish those responsible, and she knows that no Wraith would never dare even think of culling her family."

Murmurs of the quieter kind mixed in the gentle breeze that now brought with it the flowery scent of the tava beans growing not so far away.

"Are any of their people taken as slaves?" Cyon demanded.

Arion looked to him. "Yes, there are slaves there, but my cousin's family owns none."

"And how much of her trade does she have to surrender to the Alliance in payment to feel so safe?" Cyon asked.

"It is worth-"

"See already making compromises to those who would control our lives!" Cyon argued loudly to the crowd. Eous frowned at the man, who seemed so intent to keep everyone so blindly fearful.

"Worlds must help supply the Alliance army that protects them, but it is often up to the world what they will pay," Arion argued. "Are you saying that we are people who would trade away our children?"

Cyon faced towards her aggressively. "And what if we have a weak harvest? What if we cannot afford their protection one year? They will _take_ what they want from us and _take_ children, and adults like you, as slaves. You will have no rights as a slave, you will not even be allowed to lift your eyes up to meet another's again."

"If they are at Themis," another shouted, "then they will reach our world very soon!"

Eous frowned at the voice he couldn't recognise from within the crowd. The anxious expressions were rising again across the sea of faces.

"I have heard that the warriors take women and food off the tables as they pass through the worlds as they 'protect' them from the Wraith," someone else shouted, "extra to the taxation prices."

Down the Elders' table, Orestus leant forward looking down the line with a frown. Eous met his gaze. They both knew that their people were locked in dread and no amount of talking seemed to be helping, in fact it seemed to be making things worse. The gossip of late seemed to have had a far more detrimental affect than they had predicted. Eous has never seen so much fear among his people, even during a Wraith culling. It was almost as if they had been cultivating worse and worse stories among themselves, turning the Alliance into a beast far worse than the Wraith were, and that was saying something. When had this happened?

"What of those from Atlantis?" Arion asked and all eyes turned back to her.

"Atlantis?" Orestus asked her surprised by her suggestion.

"We have heard stories that they are fighting the Wraith, the stories are even known in the Alliance worlds," she reported.

The Elder sat beside Eous scoffed loudly. Beoa had been vocal before about his distaste with the stories of these new people who apparently, if gossip were to be believed, came from another galaxy!

"You mean those who have stolen the most ancient and sacred of temples of the Ancestors?" Beoa replied.

"They saved the Scavans," someone replied and a few people put voice to other stories they had heard.

Beoa waved the words away dismissively with his heavily ringed fingers. "Have you seen the Scavans' world now? It is barren and the Scavans now live on a barely known world. No, those from this 'other galaxy'," he described doubtfully, "if that is what they are, are at best nosy thieves, looking around at other worlds for what they can use and taking Ancestral artefacts, and at worst, they are working with the Alliance. Perhaps they are even Alliance members, creating this elaborate scheme."

Eous frowned at Beoa's bizarre suggestion.

"They have stolen the Ancestors' temple, steal from other worlds still, and likely are looking to join the Alliance themselves," Beoa concluded.

"We have no evidence of any of that," Eous stated calmly, but loud enough that all could hear.

"Regardless," Beoa continued, "we need to decide on our own fate, not turn to aliens to save us, which would be just the same

as the Alliance is 'offering'. No, better to remain our own people - strong and in control of our own destiny."

"And what will happen when the fire of battle lights up the sky?" Arion asked. "Is it not better to welcome the Alliance, let them protect us now and perhaps negotiate our terms of payment?"

"Negotiate our freedom?" Cyon spluttered. "Is that what we have become? We have always fought the Wraith as best we could, but we will bend over and kneel our faces into the dirt for the Alliance?"

The crowd burst into loud shouts in response to that.

Eous sighed heavily and glanced back down the table to catch Orestus' gaze again. There was dismay and true concern in the aged clouding eyes that met his.

A new sound suddenly cut through the voices, a shout shouting far higher and more panicked than any other. All the heads of the crowd turned, but already all could see that the portal was activating. Since the stories of the Alliance arriving on worlds through the portals, and the Wraith's long held opening of the portal to cull, his people had begun to fear each opening of the portal. That fear, galvanised by this unsuccessful meeting, meant that today his normaly strong and noble people were already panicking.

Everyone stood up, many rushing away, just in case it was not an innocent trading partner visiting them.

Eous stood up with the other Elders and moved around the end of the long table. He strode through the spreading worried mass of people towards the rush of the Ancestral gateway. The bright sunlight glistened over the water-like surface that filled the portal.

Eous remained calm as he walked towards the portal. Behind him he heard others following, all eyes on the circle of potential threat. The two guards stood on either side of the portal held their weapons ready, but even they appeared overly cautious thanks to the day's nervousness. Eous kept walking towards the portal with his head held high. Whatever came through, would be greeted as always, with politeness if friendly, and clear strength if it was a threat. The crunch of boots on earth behind him, told him that the crowd were following him closely.

Just as Eous reached the central space before the portal, there began the first ripple of movement across the Ancestral watery surface. Eous fixed his attention on it, waiting. Part of him was edged with caution, prepared to duck away from any flying threat that might appear, or to run from any Wraith face that may burst out to attack his people.

The ripple spread, creating more and suddenly a dark form burst through the water and fell to the ground. The crowd all gasped in shock, but also with a clear amount of relief. Eous, however, was more concerned at the sight of the man knelt weakly on the ground.

"Healers!" Eous called. "Bring a healer!" He rushed forward towards the man, whose clothes were blackened and blood was congealed across his cheek and mouth. One arm was held tight to his middle and it was clear that the bones were no longer in line. Eous dropped to his knees before the man as the portal died away behind him.

"You are safe here," Eous assured the man.

Swollen red-rimmed eyes looked up to meet his. The man's cracked lips opened and his eyes widened.

"You are safe," Eous repeated.

"What happened? Where are you from?" Someone else asked from Eous's right.

"They came…," the man whispered through pain-filled breaths.

"Who?" Orestus asked from behind Eous' shoulder. "Who did this to you?"

The man grimaced as he lifted his eyes to look up at Orestus, before glancing around at the crowd filling the space before the portal.

"The Alliance," the man stated clearly. "They did this to me… my family…" his words ran out and he slumped forward into Eous' arms.

If Eous' people had been concerned and fearful of what the Alliance might mean for them before, Eous was sure that now they were truly convinced of the threat. They may not even need to hear this man's story in it's entirely. It was too late. His people were lost to fear now.

Eous handed away the man's weight to the healers as they arrived and he stood, aware of the drying blood on his sleeves. Around him, people were shouting, ready to riot in panic. There was talk of leaving, of going to the hiding caves, of fighting, of the weakness of the Elders. It all became a mix of chaotic angry screams and accusations. Eous' first thought was to seek out his family among the crowd and to ensure their safety, but he first sought out Orestus' gaze again. Orestus' face was grim, and there was a touch of fear in his eyes now. However, among the chaos of shouting and the half-broken Elders equally anxious of their people's future, Eous saw one smile.

He tilted his head to look past the greying shoulders of Orestus, to see Cyon, son of the Delos family the chime makers, turn away with a smile on his lips.

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You could always pick out the Newbies in Atlantis a mile away. That expression of shocked amazement mixed with just a touch of fear and a wealth of disbelief. It would last a few weeks and then the expression would be replaced with the standard tired determination, but the touch of fear never really vanished.

The amazement at Atlantis would return regularly though, during moments when you would remember exactly where you were and who had built this place so long ago. Moments where you had to reflect on the ancient genius' who had created the shield that was keeping everyone inside the city alive, that the showers were just the most perfect temperature early in the morning, and that even the most empty room in the city was actually beautifully made. Compared to the SGC, Atlantis was a palace in which any prince would have been happy living. It was quite a military base in which to be stationed, be it in an entirely different galaxy from Earth.

This particular group of newbies were receiving their Infirmary orientation. They had arrived on the Apollo this morning, one batch of supplies among all the rest to the Military. They wandered along now behind a nurse, all wide eyes and desperate to take in everything they were told.

John watched their progress through the strip of space between the curtains pulled around the medical bed on which he sat. He had managed to stay out of the Infirmary for the last month, but today had broken that lucky streak. Not that the long, but shallow, cut across his back was all that much to worry about. He'd had far worse, especially considering how angry and violent those locals had been. The medieval style stone walled town had yielded yet another world in which the locals had mistaken the Atlantis team for an Alliance delegation. Usually they would calm down after a bit, but not today's planet. They had been rioting long before John's team, lead by the always ready to fight back Colonel Sumner, had arrived.

Broken bricks and rocks had been the locals' ammunition of choice. John had managed to dodge one well-aimed throw, only to be shoved back down onto the very same piece of brick that had formally been aimed at his head. The gouge across his back had been the result, but it was little compared to the wounds others in that rioting town had been swapping with each other. Sumner had quickly led the run back to the Gate, with a load of pitchforks and brick lovers in hot pursuit.

Back in Atlantis, once Rodney had been assured that he wasn't going to die from inhaling brick dust, Carson had ordered John to the Infirmary. John wasn't so sure that his cut required as much worry as Carson had given it, as it had already stopped bleeding by the time John had gated back here, but who was he to argue with the Doc in charge of all the needles and swabs.

"This is new," Carson said over John's shoulder as he applied gauze over the newly cleaned cut.

The comment registered through John's quiet pondering and he pulled his gaze away from the newbies.

"What?" He asked a little worriedly over his shoulder. Surprise was never something you wanted to hear in your doctor's voice when they worked on you.

"This," Carson replied, as he tapped a gloved finger to the back of John's left shoulder. "The tattoo?"

"Oh, that," John replied the relief palatable. "I thought you'd found a bad mole or something," he added.

"No, they're all fine," Carson replied with a smile in his voice. "Looks new."

"A mole?" John asked, knowing full well that Carson was still referring to the new ink on his back.

No one else had seen the tattoo yet, and John hadn't yet worked out how he was going to explain why he clearly had an Elite tattoo on the back of his shoulder. He was still a little surprised he had agreed to it. He liked the 'marking', as Teyla and the Elite referred to it. He had followed Oneakka's instructions and taken good care of the tattoo as it healed, applying some cream he still had from a past injury onto the design everyday, and gradually the soreness had gone and it had healed up, revealing the fresh blackness of the ink now permanently in his skin.

"Yes, the large wing-like black mole on the back of your shoulder," Carson replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, it's new," John confirmed, wondering if Carson would let it go at that. Surely the Doc saw plenty of ink around here.

"Explains a few things," Carson muttered as he applied another piece of gauze further down John's back, covering the last of the cut.

John frowned at that, glancing over his shoulder at his friend. "Such as?"

"Last month, back on the Daedalus when we were heading back here with the Elite - I visited Elite Emmagan in her bed in the Infirmary and you were there pulling your shirt back on and looking somewhat guilty I thought."

John looked away, imagining for himself the scene Carson would have witnessed.

"If those other two Elite hadn't been there, I might have been really suspicious," Carson continued, clearly enjoying the chance to tease.

"I wasn't looking guilty," John protested.

Except that he kind of felt a little guilty at how much he liked the tattoo. He wasn't entirely sure what Colonel Sumner would say if he knew one of his team now had an Elite marking, and that John spent far too much time thinking about a certain stunning Elite warrior woman. John was already the loudest advocate to make proper contact with the Alliance, and Sumner had enough issues with him already. It didn't matter that with each passing month, John had been excelling at his job. Inspired somewhat by his own independent experiences with the Elite, the relaxed confidence shown in him by Colonel Carter, and the feeling of purpose he now had, John had found himself feeling more confident in his own abilities in Sumner's judgemental presence. Whereas before John had felt defensive and therefore somewhat mouthy at times, now he just ignored Sumner's less than subtle references to past misdeeds. It didn't help that Ford took great amusement in teasing John constantly about a certain more recent bug incident, but then Aiden was a good friend now. Sumner, however, John had decided, was just never going to like him. His annual review last month had been better than ever before though, but John suspected that it wasn't because Sumner had begun to change his mind about him, but that Colonel Carter had intervened in some way.

It was possible that John risked that growing faith shown in him by Colonel Carter by being so vocal about taking up the offer to visit Athos, but Carter always invited debate on any issues in meetings. Rodney said it was because she was a scientist at heart and therefore always open to discussing theories and possible outcomes. Rodney's crush on her showed no sign in diming any time soon, but perhaps he had a point, because Carter seemed willing to keep talking about the Alliance issue.

Every report they had heard about the Alliance told them that the powerful conglomerate of worlds were still pushing out their influence even further. Unfortunately, not every world that became included inside that ever-widening line on the maps that demarked the Alliance border was happy about it. It seemed that there was a hell of a lot of mistrust and fear of the Alliance and it didn't help that the Wraith were culling more to charge up for fight against the Alliance military.

The IOA and SGC were unsure about the Alliance still. They seemed to be of the mind to just sit back and wait. Atlantis sat on a planet far away from that expanding territory of the Alliance, so they wouldn't be directly affected for years, if ever. So, the argument was - what was the point to get involved? The Alliance were hardly angels sent to cure all ills. From John's limited involvement with them, it was known that there had been major corruption at the heart of the Alliance, in their High Council. One woman, an Elite warrior granted, had almost taken complete control of those in power, using her body, threats, and blackmail to force her own control. Iketani had been stopped, but that didn't mean that those in power in the High Council were any less guilty of caving to her influence. Add to that, the Alliance had a strong slave trade, something which John had been subjected to personally, and if it hadn't been for Teyla saving him, he may never have gotten out of Alliance territory.

The Alliance were clearly not the pillar of virtue, but they were the single biggest organisation Earth had ever seen. They were powerful to the extreme. They had technology that would make any scientist on Earth weep just to see. The Alliance's military force was terrifying in what it was capable of, and John had seen first hand what could happen to a planet if the Alliance wanted it destroyed. That burning planet often showed up in his nightmares. The Alliance were perhaps just a dangerous a threat as the Wraith were, but that was at just what they knew of the surface of the Alliance, as John argued regularly.

The Elite, the embodiment of the Alliance military strength, had turned out to be the most honourable, skilled, and intelligent people John had ever met. They had even assisted in saving Carson from Iketani's clutches. They were not blind killers, with no interest in anything but Wraith blood; instead, they had all but called Atlantis a silent ally, regardless as to what the Alliance High Council may say; which was another reason why the IOA didn't seem all that interested in pursuing further contact with the Alliance just yet. Atlantis had a started a kind of friendship, of sorts, with the Elite, so it was highly unlikely that the Alliance military would see them as an enemy and therefore Atlantis was safe enough for now. Why rock the boat?

John could understand that view, but it was wrong as far as he was concerned. The expedition was in Pegasus to find new technologies and allies against the Wraith and other enemies back in the Milky Way. The Alliance fulfilled those aims and more. It was strategically vital to start up friendly contact with the Alliance. The military already were inclined towards Atlantis it seemed, not just because of the Elite's leadership, but because news of Atlantis' small, yet vital, successes against the Wraith had been spreading. In John's mind, they should run with that good will and follow up on their successes. Atlantis had nothing but to gain and since they had an invitation to meet Torren of Athos, a powerful system leader within the Alliance, it was just perfect. Athos had nothing to do with the slave trade and Torren was Teyla's father, so perhaps already inclined to be friendly. It was the perfect place to start, even if it just meant that they could get some extra food supplies occasionally. It was too good a chance to miss. They had to grab their opportunity as soon as possible.

Of course, the fact that John was aware that with each passing week it was more likely that Teyla had left Athos following her recovery had nothing to do with it. Four weeks had passed now and he would bet that Teyla healed damn quickly, even from that terrible injury sustained at Iketani's hand.

The moments following that near fatal stabbing appeared in his dreams and thoughts far too frequently. Knelt on the blood soaked floor of that underground tomb, Wraith surrounding them and hope fading, he had held Teyla against him. Her cheek had been leant on his shoulder, her arms limply holding onto his waist, her chest pressed to his as he had struggled to hide them both behind the meagre protection of an overturned table. He had been terrified, not at the approaching Wraith, not at the fact that he was the last man standing or that a Wraith Queen stood across the room from him. No, he had been terrified that Teyla had been dying in his arms. Yet, holding her, even in those adrenaline-fuelled terrifying moments, had felt good, had felt right in a way he couldn't really express. Maybe it was that his memory had been altered since by his somewhat romantic thoughts of Teyla, but he felt as if that time holding her had told him something. That she had drawn together enough strength to then help him fight off the Queen, not with her body that time, but with her mind and her Gift – it had been extraordinary. What guy wouldn't be in love with a woman like that? Which of course justified all his romantic, and some very lustful, thoughts about Elite Warrior Emmagan.

Did those thoughts influence his opinion about the Alliance? Probably, but he still stood behind his views about the importance of contact with the Alliance. Had his feelings for Teyla influenced him agreeing to the tattoo on his back? Probably, but it was still an honour that the Elite had offered it to him. It meant more to him than just the fact that Teyla had designed it just for him, but through it, in a weird way, he felt more connected to her now.

"You alright?" Carson asked quietly, snapping John from his wandering thoughts.

"Sure, just you know, tired from the mission," he replied, trying to sound suitably tired.

"Certainly looks like it was a tough one," Carson remarked as he pressed down all the pieces of tap holding the gauze and cover over the cut. "Unfriendly locals again?"

"Yep, they thought we were a delegation from the Alliance," John confirmed. "All hell broke out."

"It's getting worse out there," Carson reflected quietly. "You're all done," he announced along with the snap of surgical gloves being removed.

"Thanks, Doc," John replied as he hopped down off the high Ancient bed. He turned back towards the bed and reached for his vest and jacket.

"I heard Lieutenant Donovan's team got caught in some crossfire a couple of days ago," Carson asked as he tidied away the empty gauze packets and bloodied wipes. Carson had been off world for the last few days, helping the sick on a world left in ruins by a culling.

"Yeah, Wraith attack. They practically drained the entire planet before they faced the Alliance fleet," John told him as he picked up his jacket and frowned at the blood-soaked material, sliced right through the back. Better the vest and jacket than his back, but there was no way this jacket was going to be clean again; he was going to have to requisition another one. Damn it.

"We save anyone?" Carson asked as he turned away and returned with a scrubs shirt. "Wear this if you want."

"Thanks," John replied as he pulled on the clean top. "Donovan managed to land the Jumper close enough to a village to save a handful of people."

Donovan's face had been pale when he had told them about the sight his team had witnessed - not only of the culling on the planet, but then the massive battle that had begun above. The Alliance Fleet had arrived and engaged the Wraith Hives, and Donovan, a seasoned officer, had clearly never seen anything like it. Scenes from Star Wars movies had been his only source of reference. John had understood though, he had seen the behemoth Alliance flagships, along with the deadly smaller ships and then their fast manoeuvrable fighters. However, when John had seen the fleet it had been in the aftermath of battle, Donovan's team has seen the start of it. He had flown his cloaked packed Jumper back to the waiting space gate, having made his way carefully around the edges of the space battle that few in the Milky Way would hopefully ever have to see.

Donovan's report had worried the IOA, no doubt about it, and no less that three teams since had been attacked by local people on differing worlds, mistaking the teams for Alliance warriors.

Carson was right – it was getting worse out there, and there wasn't much Atlantis could do about it. The Alliance were an unstoppable force right now and unfortunately it seemed that John's own people were now getting caught in the crossfire. John's only idea was to take up the offer to visit Athos. Perhaps with some real intelligence about the inner workings of the Alliance, Atlantis would have a clearer picture of what to expect in the future. For all the honourable actions and skills the Elite displayed, and the power of the Military fleet, they were not the ones who ran the Alliance and they wouldn't be the ones to ultimately decide how to deal with Atlantis. If the day came when Atlantis was seen as an enemy threat by the Alliance - it wasn't worth thinking about what could happen. That burning planet replayed in John's thoughts enough already.

Plastic hooks rattled along the railing as Carson pulled aside the privacy curtain, revealing the busy Infirmary. The newbies were now being shown the Ancient medical scanner. One of them was lying on the bed, looking a little nervous as the grid of green light played down her body.

"How are your new medical staff settling in?" John asked gesturing off to some of the white-coated newbies among the group.

"They'll be fine," Carson replied like a proud mother hen overseeing his own little empire. John smiled back at him.

"Thanks for patching me up," he said as he clapped a hand on Carson's arm as he headed away towards the exit.

"Keep your back clean and dry," Carson told him, the tone he used when making it clear that he knew fully well that John knew how to take care of such a shallow simple wound, but that he still had to say it. He wouldn't be the much-respected mother hen if he didn't.

John nodded half-heartedly over his shoulder with a smile as he walked away, knowing that there was more meaning in the reminder. It was Carson's way of saying be careful out there. He wondered how many times now he and Carson had gone through this little ritual, and how much Carson worried about every member of a Gate team.

"And I like it," Carson added pointing over the back of his own left shoulder with a smile.

Strangely pleased that the tattoo had gotten Carson's approval, John headed out of the Infirmary. There were two main entrances to the Infirmary and as John exited one, he noticed a familiar figure hovering outside the other. John made his way quietly along the corridor towards Rodney's back, who was peering around the open doorframe into the Infirmary. John got close up to Rodney's side without being noticed, and peered into the Infirmary alongside Rodney, to see that his attention was focused on the newbies.

"What are you doing?" John demanded loudly close to Rodney's shoulder, making the scientist jump with shock, emitting a strangled cry as he pulled away from the Infirmary's open doorway to press his back against the hallway wall.

Delighted with Rodney's reaction, John crossed his arms and controlled his grin as he watched Rodney realise it was him and slump against the wall with relief.

"What are _you_ doing?" Rodney spluttered, one hand clutched to his chest. "You can't go around scaring people like that!"

John glanced back into the Infirmary again, peering far less subtly towards the newbies that Rodney had been furtively watching. "Seen something you like in there?" He teased knowingly.

"No," Rodney replied instantly, confirming just the opposite. The flush of red to Rodney's cheeks only made it more amusing.

"You know," John began, "If you've got an embarrassing problem…"

"I don't!" Rodney protested as he turned his back on the Infirmary doorway and marched away down the corridor.

John glanced once more into the Infirmary, running his eyes over the female newbies, wondering which one had caught Rodney's attention so thoroughly. Then he turned and followed Rodney's retreating back, lengthening his strides to catch up.

"Here I was thinking you had come to check on me."

"You're fine, you're always fine," Rodney replied dismissively.

"It's nice to know you care, McKay," John responded sarcastically. "I'll be sure to remember this when you're next injured."

Rodney seemed actually to recognise then that he had said something slightly wrong and he frowned. "I didn't mean…I mean…I knew you were okay. You were up and fighting like seconds after you fell," he brokenly managed to offer, which was his way of apologising, by trying to explain his lack of tact. John didn't really care that much, but still nodded his agreement.

"Besides broken bricks aren't real weapons, not like being shot by an arrow," Rodney said, once again forgetting tact.

"You were shot in the backside by a kid," John replied with amusement. It had been a major teasing point for him and Ford since their visit to a planet with a society made up entirely of kids protected under an Ancient shield. Unfortunately, Rodney's attitude towards those bow and arrow wielding kids had resulted in an arrow in his backside.

"And those bricks worked pretty effectively from the way my back feels," John pointed out exaggerating slightly. "Try to remember that sometimes the best weapon is often the first thing you can get your hand on, and trust me, even broken bricks can kill people, Rodney."

"I _know_ that, but…"

"Sheppard this is Sumner, report," the gruff voice demanded over the radio.

John barely restrained his eye roll as he activated the link. "Sheppard here, Sir."

"McKay with you?" Sumner asked.

"Yes, Sir," John replied.

"Meeting in ten minutes," Sumner stated and the link died.

"Yes, Sir," John added to the dead air, this time allowing some of his sarcasm through. It looked like he wasn't going to get the rest of the day off as he had hoped.

0000000  
>TBC<p> 


	3. Shadows

**Chapter 3 - Shadows**

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A cool breeze drifted around her, rousing her from her light sleep. Blinking away the last lingering touches of a strange dream, Teyla lifted her head from the comfort of her pillow and looked down the length of her bedroom towards the open window. The air stirred again through the small opening between glass and frame. The parted thin curtains, outlining the view of Tjaru outside, danced as she watched another small gust breeze into her room, chilling the air against her shoulders and face.

Sighing lightly, she sat up as she pushed away the warm covers and stood up from her bed. She trod quietly across the thick rug that lay alongside her bed, only to pause, the complete silence of the room registering. Her mind focused from sleepiness, her warrior nature kicking in sharply to identify what it was that felt wrong in her bedroom. After a moment, she realised it was the complete silence that was unusual, and she continued to the end of her bed and peered down at Ketra's bed, to find it empty. She hadn't realised how accustomed to her pet's faint delicate breathing she had become.

On the Sythus, Ketra now had a two level wooden home in which to sleep in the corner of Teyla's quarters, but here on Tjaru there was only the soft bed from Ketra's youth. A bed that was now somewhat small for the growing Ketra, and she had begun to favour the thick rug in the next room on which to nap. Teyla suspected Ketra had finally grown fed up with the old bed tonight and had decided to sleep in the other room.

Teyla continued across her bedroom towards the open window that allowed in the cool night breeze. As she approached the window, she noted that the bedroom door was further ajar than she had left it before retiring to bed, confirming Ketra's exit to the next room some time in the night.

The moonlight was very bright tonight she noted, and perhaps that was partly the reason she had been disturbed from her fitful dreams tonight. The chilled draught had done the rest. As she neared the open window, the light curtains lifted with another breeze, like ghostly hands reaching for her. The soft material settled around her bare forearms as she reached for the handle of the window to shut out the cool air. She paused though, her attention drawn out to the view of Tjaru in the moonlight. She brushed away the curtains, and settled her hands on the narrow windowsill as she took in the beautiful view outside, the cool air still lingering around her.

In the distance, through the rising structures of the taller buildings, surrounded below by smaller storey buildings and trees, the ancient gateway of Tjaru stood in the distant moonlight. The two towers stood apart, linked only by an arched bridge set high up over the open gateway below. The towers were shaped almost like two halves of an egg, split down the middle and parted to create the entranceway into the city. At their heights, flags flapped in the wind, so high up that only clouds could limit any breeze. The clouds were absent tonight though, which afforded a particularly glorious view of her home city in the starlight.

Except it was not truly her home. She had not been born in the city, but in a nearby settlement, having moved into Tjaru only when her father had been voted into power as leader of the Athosian people. The family, still grieving the loss of her and Zabetha's mother who had been taken by the Wraith less than one-half cycle before, had moved into the family areas of the Governing Buildings that had been home to the leaders of Athos for so many generations. Teyla had only lived a handful of more yearly cycles in Tjaru before she had left to begin her training to become an Elite, which meant that she had spent more of her life apart from her family than she had ever spent with them, let alone with them in this city.

Yet, Tjaru felt like a home of sorts, a constant in her life, which was normally unpredictable in its turns and dangers. Tjaru had become one of the few places where she could pause in her life, to take a breath and allow herself to rest, to feel still, even if only for a day at a time. For, in truth, she had no real home. She had rooms, such as this one, where she kept things she owned, whether that was here, on the Sythus, in the Training Facility of the Elite or even in her sparse room in the Military Council's base. Between these rooms she moved, a dance from one to another, rarely affording her a moment's true respite between battles, in the constant movement of her life. A life with no real home to call her own anymore.

She glanced down from the cityscape and cloudless sky to the family courtyard stretched out below her window. It was one of her most favoured places to sit, to enjoy those moments of peaceful stillness. The bright moonlight glowed over the two large central reflecting pools and surrounding flowerbeds, the breeze stirring shrubs and flowers gently.

A slight movement from one dark corner drew her attention instantly.

Her gaze snapped to the area of unpredicted movement, her body instantly still and tense, ready to act. Her eyes fixed on the dark flowerbed that should hold nothing more than shrubs and a single tree.

The movement repeated itself and she let out the breath she had been holding. The end of Ketra's tail, where it was now visible between two shrubs, wriggled again, a sure sign of her excitement at having found something interesting down in the flowerbed. How had she gotten down there?

Moving swiftly and absolutely silently, Teyla made her way out of her room and down to the courtyard, stepping out into the well kept moonlit yard. The paving stones were cool under her bare feet as she swiftly made her way down the length of the courtyard towards the far corner where Ketra had been hiding. As she passed the reflecting pools stretched down the centre of the yard, she glanced at their perfectly level surface, beautifully reflecting the star-filled sky above. Only one moon glittered overhead tonight, but its light was enough to fill the courtyard, and the night blooming plants had opened in response with beautiful bright white flowers along the water's edge. The courtyard's fresh air was gently scented by the large variety of flowers set throughout the pots and flowerbeds around the yard, all lovingly tended by the official gardeners.

Teyla approached the far corner, out of habit keeping mostly to the shadows. As she arrived at the flowerbed, she heard a small rustle and then absolute silence again. Ketra was still here and knew someone had found her.

"Ketra," Teyla called and waited, but nothing stirred from the rather overly full flowerbed. "Ketra," she repeated more forcefully before clicking her tongue quietly against her teeth.

A further shuffling of vegetation drew her attention to the right side of the large bed, where her wayward pet was clearly hiding. Teyla tried not to smile as she moved to that end, stepping further into the shadows to improve her night vision, and she spied the tip of Ketra's tail where it lay protruding from between two shrubs.

"You know you must not be here," Teyla told Ketra quietly. "Mino was ready to skin you for eating all of the blossoms in the other courtyard, do not repeat your crimes now."

During their current stay in Tjaru, Ketra had been enjoying her new taste of freedom in the family buildings and had found that her increasing size meant that others were less inclined to scold her for any bad behaviour. By her species' aging, Ketra was now a teenager and had duly begun to behave like one. She still had much growing to do, but her shoulders now reached most people's knees and she was thickening out with muscle. Her teeth were growing considerably, keeping in proportion with her larger jaw and head, and the spines lining her neck were now almost a hands' width long. This new, rather scary appearance to some, had given her a taste of power and Ketra had begun to defy anyone's orders, except for Teyla's or Si's. She was of an age in which she had to learn her place in the universe, and some days Teyla had begun to reconsider keeping her.

She loved Ketra dearly, but feared that perhaps Ketra would enjoy her life more if she had the freedom of a forest and the company of her own kind. The Athosian planet from which she had been purchased, held great forests in which her species lived. The small dragons were known to enjoy human contact from time to time, many of them lingering on the edges of the forest during the harvest season, hoping presumably to be given some extra food. The locals happily shared with them, believing that in return the dragons would chase away Wraith. Quite frequently, orphaned young dragons were found at the edges of the forest, and they were always taken in by the local settlements. These orphans, such as Ketra had been, often grew up strong in the settlements, but usually the day would inevitably arrive when they would leave the settlement to live back in the forest. The grown orphans usually still visited their former human family and friends, but they would remain living in the forest. Teyla had begun to worry that perhaps Ketra wished that for herself, that she felt the instinctual urge to return to her own kind, to the forest. Though there were the occasion orphans who remained living with humans in the settlements all their life, it was clear that it was the dragon's choice alone to do so. Ketra had not been given that choice.

Towards the end of her recuperation in Tjaru, Teyla had been walking Ketra down to the forest outside the city, walking through the trees with her. The dragon loved every moment of it, leaping from branch to branch, then scuttling playfully through fallen leaves, then to explode out to scrabble up a tree excitedly. Despite the clear delight in such play, Ketra always kept close and when Teyla left the forest, Ketra followed without any hint of reluctance. However, Teyla feared that one day, Ketra may simply remain in the trees. If that were to happen, Teyla would accept her decision, but would prefer that the forest be of Ketra's home world, where she could be with others of her own species.

When Kanaan had given Teyla the tiny young Ketra, she had been overjoyed to have a member of this powerful, Wraith killing, species with her. She had not realised how intelligent Ketra would grow though. Ketra clearly understood all basic instructions given to her, but often Teyla wondered how much more she understood. Ketra seemed at times to appreciate far more than a simple species should, and she clearly understood when she had been bad. Eating all of the blossoms in the ancient blossom courtyard had definitely been naughty.

Mino, the official lead gardener of the Governing Buildings of Tjaru, had been furious, as had been made obvious by the manner in which she had spoken to Teyla, while Ketra had cowered behind Teyla's legs. The others close by had turned white with fear that Mino had been all but shouting with fury at an Elite warrior, and any other day Teyla would have not have let it pass, but she had understood Mino's position and had been very apologetic. It seemed that many in the complex found the tale humorous now, but Mino most certainly did not and Teyla tried not to either. Mino's family had been keeping prized and rare blossoming trees and plants for many generations in that courtyard. Every blossoming branch or stem had been lovingly reared from seedling and cared for by Mino. The blossoms flowered all year round, the timing of each species' flowering perfectly timed by Mino so that there would always be a wash of blossoms of all colours. People visited from other worlds to see the display it was so beautiful and skilfully kept, and Ketra had devoured every single one of the pretty blossoms in no time. Consequently, Teyla had promised that Ketra would never be left out alone in the buildings again, unless shut in Teyla's quarters, and that she would accompany Ketra at all times when she was not. Ketra had already two days ago managed to escape out of the bedroom's wide-open window, but Teyla had witnessed the escape in progress and had fetched Ketra in quick time. Yet, somehow tonight, despite the window locked open only two thumbs' width, Ketra had somehow gotten out again, and she knew she was in trouble as evidenced by her poor hiding.

"Ketra!" Teyla repeated. "I will not protect you from Mino this time," she lied. "Ketra."

The end of the tail twitched and she heard Ketra hiss from behind the shrubs. Ketra had never hissed at her. Taken back, Teyla paused, wondering if Ketra had perhaps caught some prey, though her species preferred a mostly vegetarian diet, they were known to eat insects and birds on occasion. Or, perhaps her growing defiance was more pronounced than Teyla had realised.

The hiss echoed again and this time it was accompanied by the metallic rustling of her neck spines. Both sounds were strong warnings and not to be ignored, and never before directed towards Teyla.

Teyla frowned down at the end of Ketra's tail, contemplating how she should handle this new behaviour, when the moonlight dimmed slightly.

Teyla looked up from the flowerbed and stepped out of the shadow of the tree's branches to look up at the single moon overhead. Clouds were drifting in front of it, casting long growing shadows across the courtyard. Teyla frowned up at the formerly perfectly clear sky, and a strange sense of concern began to fill her. Ketra hissed again from within the flowerbed.

Another breeze pushed through the courtyard and this time there was a new dry rustling sound. Teyla dropped her gaze from the moon above and looked down the length of perfectly smoothed paving stones that outlined the sides of yard around the reflecting pools. Dried up autumn leaves were rattling together as the wind danced them across the paving stones. The wind stirred more forcefully and the collection of leaves were pushed further down the path in Teyla's direction, the noise growing louder and mixing with Ketra's hissing.

Teyla watched the leaves tumbling and dancing towards her, then gathering around her ankles, the sharp edges of the dried leaves catching against her skin.

It was summer. Why were there autumn leaves here?

The air began to chill sharply against her skin and her attention was drawn to the formally undisturbed surface of the closest reflecting pool. Its surface was now rippling under the growing gusting wind. As Teyla breathed out, her breath formed a cloud of mist as it hit the air, which seemed to be growing colder with each passing moment. Along the reflecting pool's edge, the lines of tall beautiful flowers began to wilt, their petals and leaves shrivelling up, the stems drooping and dying away. In fact, all around her everything was dying, even the trees lining the portico to her right were withering away.

Down the far end of the courtyard, the new shadows cast from the clouds above had deepened, and as she looked into their depths something strange felt as if it were looking back at her. It sensation was disturbing and she tried to study the darkening shadows further, but even the outlines of the flowerbed and pots against he wall of the family home were now obscured. The air grew sharply colder around her, biting into her skin, and she felt ice forming on the smooth paving stones under the bare soles of her feet.

She stepped backwards, edging away from the dark unseen presence that she could not identify, but as she moved, it seemed that the shadows only lengthened towards her, engulfing the far end of courtyard out of view. A deep nervous worry began to itch through her.

"Ketra," Teyla called once more, hoping that now the dragon had sensed the threat and would join her, but nothing moved from the flowerbed.

She was loathed to abandon Ketra in the flowerbed, but knew that trying forcibly to remove a fearful Ketra from the shrubs could result in dangerous lacerations to her bare arms. Something was very wrong across the courtyard and whatever the sharp threatening intelligence was that was watching Teyla, it was growing closer. She had to leave the family courtyard – now.

"Stay hidden," Teyla ordered Ketra. "Stay still."

The shadows were lengthening towards her still and the sense of being the sole focus of the threatening presence was making her breaths unsteady. She felt hunted.

She knew the feeling, though she was rather unaccustomed to being on this end of the sensation. She opened her senses towards the shadows, but felt no sign of any Wraith, but she knew, with that mental touch, that it was after her and her alone. Remembered screams and threats from Queenly mouths before their deaths rose in Teyla's mind, almost made real again. All those promises that she would be struck down one day.

Panic rose sharply within her, her heart slamming within her chest. She was in danger. She was vulnerable. Her upper back began to ache, growing more intense until it was blindingly painful, as if the deep knife wound that had healed completely was now fresh and new again.

The unexpected panic abruptly hit a higher note and she looked sharply over her shoulder, fearing she had exposed her back again. There was nothing there but the still moonlit end of the courtyard. She had become complacent staying in Tjaru this long and had almost exposed her back again. At which point, she realised she had no weapon with her. She always carried a weapon!

She moved quickly across the still moonlit end of the courtyard, keeping her eyes on the darkness steadily pursuing her. There was too much space behind her though, between her back and the near wall of the courtyard. She stumbled up into the deep flowerbed behind her so that she could put her back to the wall. Mud and dead flowers clung to her feet as she slammed her back against the courtyard wall. The strong scent of decay drifted up from the dead plants around her, and the soil uncomfortably lodged between her toes felt cold and heavy.

The shadowed threat was still moving towards her, slowing swallowing up the far end of the family courtyard, devouring her father's favoured bench on which they liked to sit and discuss Zabetha's approaching marriage. The terror that filled Teyla's throat was so alien to her that it felt like it was smothering her, stealing her breath completely with her sudden loss of emotional control. She had to get to safety and find a weapon.

She slid her back along the wall, keeping her aching upper back protected and her eyes always on the shadows threatening her sanity. Rough dried wood met her left shoulder and she looked round sharply to see that there was a large trellis nailed to the wall across which normally beautiful flowering ivy grew, but now the ivy had withered away exposing the bare wooden trellis behind. Teyla reached up and gripped the closest edge of the trellis frame, pulling and twisting to break apart one side of it. She wrenched away one long section of wood. She roughly tugged two smaller broken pieces away, so that she was left with a sharply pointed stick. It was not overly long and the wood felt dry and brittle in her hands, but it was a weapon. She had fought with worse before.

Feeling faintly more in control with the simple dried stick in her hand, she continued across the flowerbed, moving quickly through the sticky mud, her eyes constantly returning to the unseen presence that darkened her family's home. The furthest reflecting pool was lost and the chilled winter breeze was now fast turning into a freezing gale. The cold gusting air painful against her bare arms, she jumped out the end of the flowerbed and dashed the small distance to the one closed doorway that would lead out this end of the courtyard.

The sensation of being hunted, of being prey, was overwhelming now, itching against the back of her neck like a terrifying breath or promise of a descending blade. Every cell in her body screamed at her to run, to get away! The wind was a rushing tearing sound around her, the dried up leaves scratching against the pavings and around her mud-coated feet, with cries merging into an overly loud screaming hiss, so very like Ketra's warning.

She grasped the door's handle, feeling the cold ice that had settled around the old carved handle, and pulled sharply. The door resisted for a moment and then her escape was before her and she ran through the door. Ran into the safety of the inside of the building, the door slamming shut behind her, the bolt falling into place and the more comforting darkness of the empty hallway of the building surrounded her.

She held still, listening and waiting for the threatening presence to storm through the door, but the terrifying noise from before had stopped. Clutching her sharp stick, she backed away from the doorway, watching it cautiously and then glancing away worriedly to check both directions of open corridor on both sides of her. Not a single candle or lamp was lit anywhere.

What had happened to Ketra? She should not have left Ketra out there alone! And her family…

Teyla forced herself to focus on the stick in her hand, drawing on the nature of holding a weapon, something she did so easily. This was not like her to be panicked, to be afraid… The feeling of vulnerability hit her like a wave, penetrating deep, and she felt the presence of that threatening intelligence again. She held her stick out in front of her, forcing herself to fight against the fear as she moved silently away from the threat unseen on the other side of the closed door. She locked her eyes on the bolt, fearing that any moment it would be thrown open and the door would…

She edged further away through the night-filled corridor, until she sensed a corner near to her left. Its presence helped her orientate herself to where she was in the building. There was a staircase down the corridor behind her, which meant that on the next level up she could get to her quarters and retrieve her swords and a scanner.

She edged backwards around the corner, keeping her eyes locked on the distant closed courtyard door. The rounded edge of the corner felt strong and smooth against her back, and she edged around it further to feel the moving air of the other corridor opening up behind her. But then, in its place, she suddenly felt body heat behind her. She froze in panic, tensing to turn and fight, but restraining hands fell on her arms. The body pressed up behind her, scents and memories lingering with it, and one hand slid around her middle, the touch familiar yet wrong.

"Teyla," Kanaan's voice whispered to her from behind.

She held still, confused, her hands still tight around the stick that was her only weapon. The threatening presence was still in the air, ready to strike, and the doorway was almost out of her sight. She had to keep watch ready for the attack.

"Teyla," Kanaan repeated, his voice right behind her ear.

She released one tightly gripped hand from around her only weapon to swat away at his hand resting on her middle and she pushed him away with one shoulder, annoyed by his distraction, and his frequent attempts to restart what had only been a brief alteration in their friendship. Now was hardly the time for his approaches, but his distraction was not so easily removed. Suddenly the far doorway was lost in the alien dark shadows and she gasped – it was in her family home. She stepped back in fear, right up against Kanaan's body behind her. At least he was as good as a wall to stand against.

Yet, as she pressed back against him, something changed, the feel of his body and scent of him altered. His hand slid down her arm, to her hand clutching the stick. He wished to take her weapon away from her! She tightened her grip with both hands, but felt his hand encircling hers. Then, his thumb stroked over the back of her hand. A simple yet familiar touch. She broke her gaze away from the far threat entering her home, down to the hand over hers, aware now that it was not Kanaan behind her anymore. The warm male body was Sheppard. John.

His hand remained tight around hers though, pulling at her grasp, pulling loose her grip of the weapon. She resisted, using her strength that she was so famous for, but his breath touched heavily against the side of her neck. An entirely new sensation burst into life, snaking through her brightly, leaving her breasts aching, as it whispered down deep into her belly.

His hand tightened further on hers and her hold loosened, the stick falling away to clatter to the floor at her feet, and the shadows rushed in to engulf her.

The buzzing broke into Teyla's consciousness as the dream shattered around her. She snapped her eyes open, to find Ketra's lizard eyes staring down at her with clear agitation. The buzzing echoed again and Teyla blinked, reality settling in around her.

She pushed up, dislodging Ketra's front feet from her shoulder, and jabbed at the button on the wall over the bed.

"Emmagan here," she said, her voice rather raspy from sleep. Ketra made a whimpering noise as she bumped her long snout against Teyla's arm.

"Mistress Emmagan, the Council will resume on the hour," a tinny voice informed her through the connection.

"Thank you," Teyla replied into the small speaker and jabbed the button again, disconnecting the link.

She turned in her basic narrow bed, setting her boots back to the floor, and finally set her hand on Ketra's head. The bare dull inside of her small quarters in the Military Council base surrounded her, making it blatantly clear that the dream had been nothing but imaginings. Nothing to be feared. Teyla took a breath, drawing on her years of experience to gather herself emotionally and physically. Ketra whimpered worriedly under her hand again.

"I am fine," Teyla reassured Ketra as she stroked her hand across the warm smooth space between Ketra's ears back to where her neck spines were lifted worriedly. Ketra bumped her snout against Teyla's leg again. "I am fine," Teyla repeated, this time with amusement, though clearly she had been very distressed in her nightmare for Ketra to be so concerned. She repeated her stroke over the top of Ketra's head, and on down the long spines. She repeated the action several more times before Ketra relented and finally settled backward to settle back on the floor, though her front feet, each with six long clawed toes, remained on the bed's edge. Teyla smiled down at her pet and friend and considered that the gentle stroking of Ketra's head and neck was just as much to calm herself as it was for Ketra.

Feeling more awake and centred now, Teyla straightened her back and rubbed her free hand over her face and hair, hoping she was presentable. The Military Council had been in recess and she had only planned to take a short nap, however she had slept almost an hour, and she felt somewhat heavy and groggy for it.

She stood up, stretching out her arms and back as she walked the very small distance to the attached bathroom. She splashed water over her face and tidied her hair as she worked to ignore the lingering images from her strange dream and its concerns and faint arousal. Leaving the bathroom, she pulled her coat back on and lifted her swords. Instantly, she felt more herself again, as if she were stepping back into her normal self - her strength and confidence returning as she slid her swords into place against her back.

The coat was new, the old one having had Iketani's knife stabbed through it. Teyla had not thrown the old coat away though, instead she kept it unrepaired as a reminder. As one of her favoured fighting outfits beneath the coat had also been stabbed through by the same knife, she had decided to take the opportunity to make some new clothes whilst staying in Tjaru. For some reason, she had felt the need for some change to the design of her clothing. Making the new clothing had also given her something to do during the long days during her recovery in which she had not been able to return to her training. Her father had been very strict in his loving way in lecturing her not to force her recovery too quickly. She did not tell him about the far worse injuries she had sustained over the years, and instead had focused on working on her new garments until she had been able to move around more effectively.

As soon as she had been able, she had begun to make use of the bantos training yard in the Governing Buildings. For generations, Athosian leaders had kept their fighting skills sharp, but in truth, the bantos yard had simply become another one of the beautifully kept famous and varied courtyards that were set throughout the Governing Buildings. Her people had always needed to feel close to the air and nature, and even when living in a city such as Tjaru there was just as much parkland, gardens, and courtyards as there was space for building. She had made especially good use of the bantos yard of late though, building up her stamina again through training, and often Si, who had also chosen to remain in Tjaru with 'friends', joined her in sparring to increase her strength once more. It had not taken long to return to her former self, and though pleased to be herself once again, she had found herself more reluctant to leave Tjaru this time. The Sythus had been sent on a lengthy mission several weeks ago, so she had turned to her Military Council duties and work at the Elite Training Facility, but had decided to use her quarters in Tjaru as her base until the Sythus returned.

Not long after Teyla had returned to Tjaru to recover, Zabetha had finally officially announced her decision to wed, and in a week from now, the ceremony would be held. In Athosian tradition, there were several festivities set for the run up to the wedding day, including the massive festival that would be held the day before the wedding. It was a grand tradition, which would draw thousands of people to Athos to enjoy the festival that would stretch out through Tjaru and around into the neighbouring fields. It would be a day for all to celebrate, and it would be a time for Athos' closest political allies to all come together in celebration rather than in only discussion and negotiation.

Teyla had promised Zabetha that she would do her utmost to be present for the festivities and the wedding day itself. Of course, it was difficult for an Elite to promise anything like that, but Teyla would try to keep her word if she could. Nalla had volunteered to stand in for Teyla for any urgent Elite missions that may arise, but Teyla knew that the life of an Elite was unpredictable to say the least. However, by using her quarters in Tjaru as a base, leaving there each morning and returning most nights, Teyla was attempting to remain 'local' for the festivities. She truly wanted to be present for such a significant day as her little sister's marriage. She was also aware, however, that this wedding was at its heart political, and she knew that it was helpful for her father that she, as an Elite and currently a working member of the Military Council, was showing her support for the marriage. Since Si and Halling were also invited to Zabetha's wedding, there would be a strong show of Elite presence for Athos. Through Zabetha, Rhakshar, her soon to be husband, would gain not only links with Athos and her close trading friends, but also, with the Elite through Teyla. Through her increasing duties on the Military Council, when not on a mission, Teyla had begun to appreciate not just the political nature of such events, but also her own father's skills and regard.

In spending more of her time in Tjaru, Teyla had spent considerably more time with her family than before, and particularly with her father. She found herself looking forward to being able to leave the bustle and demand of the Council or Training Facility to return to the relaxing calm of Tjaru in the evenings. The only complication, and not that too stressful of one, was that due to Ketra's inconvenient blossom fixation, Teyla had to always take Ketra off world with her. Today's Council meeting had gone on for a very long time and she suspected that tomorrow would be the same, so unfortunately Ketra had had to remain locked inside these small quarters. Ketra clearly grew bored and since there was no comfortable rug by a hearth or large bed on which to snooze like in Teyla's Tjaru's quarters, Ketra was clearly growing grumpy with the regular visits to the Military Council base these past days. However, the current issues would, all being well, be resolved after tomorrow and then she and Ketra would have several days entirely free on Tjaru. Teyla planned to take Ketra on another long walk through the forest, and that would give her some time to contemplate Ketra's future. She suspected that those concerns had fuelled some of the imagery in her dream, and the rest had also been understandable.

She adjusted her swords in their new scabbards. As one of the old scabbards had been damaged by Iketani's attack, and therefore had needed replacing, however, Elkaska, her uncle, had arrived in Tjaru in the first week of her recovery and had presented her with the gift of these new scabbards. He had apparently been waiting some time to replace the old ones, but one does not tell an Elite that their weaponry is faulty. She had smiled at his words as he had presented them to her, along with a new slim lined waistcoat-like support for them that she could wear over any clothing. It was a far better system than the cage-like support she had used under her previous old coat to hold the swords. She was happy with the new design, feeling more streamlined and swift. Her uncle always seemed to have the right item for the right moment, and his ability as such a skilled and discreet trader was one of the many reasons why the Elite used him frequently for acquiring items for them.

Elkaska had been delighted at the prospect of Zabetha's marriage and he too had announced that he would remain close by for the wedding. He was currently using Tjaru as a base himself as he worked more locally through the portal system. She always enjoyed her uncle's presence, and had not spent so much time with him in many long years. He had leapt at the chance to assist her in finding new fabrics for her new outfits, always loving challenges in finding things, and within a week had brought to her recovery bed a wide selection that had amazed her. In the end, she had selected only one type of fabric, in several colours. Elkaska had purchased the fascinating alien material from a fairly private world within the Alliance, but in typical form, Elkaska managed to trade easily with them, and quietly of course. Upon wearing her first completed outfit in the new material, she had ordered a large bulk of it, through Elkaska, for the Elite. The private world had happily agreed to the regular supply for the famous Elite, with Elkaska as their trusted broker. Teyla had no doubt that Elkaska selected the best price for the manufacturers, for he was always equally skilled at being able to judge the best cost for both parties, with his fee small compared to most in his trade.

Twisting her body now, she enjoyed the new material. It was fully flexible, in all directions, was entirely breathable and regulated body temperature more efficiently than any other fabric. It was produced from two plants that had been interbred to create a new variety from which the new material was formed. It was soft, yet durable, and could be dyed into any colour. However, not to be bested and always seeking to improve, the Elite tailor armourers, who had practically drooled at the new material she had found for them, had added an additional element to the new outfits. It was the latest in Elite technology just being implemented. Thin weaved fibres with a metallic inner thread, were woven through the material, in any design, to create a dissipating cage to counteract Wraith stunners. The only drawback was that the defusing field this created did not cover beyond the reach of the outfit's design, such as one's uncovered head and hands, unless a hood and gloves were worn, which few Elite would choose to do. However, after testing, it was discovered that any stunner shot would be mostly dispersed by the rest of the garment, leaving only a tingling, slightly numb sensation to eyes and senses, but an Elite would still be able to fight. Teyla did not think that was the best option, so had begun to weave strands of the defuser thread technology within each of her braids. They were not obvious and appeared decorative, but would actually be protecting her further. Si had complained that he had no hair in which to hide any of the threads, so Teyla had suggested a headband, a joke which he still refused to find amusing.

Still smiling at the image of Si sporting a girlish metallic headband, Teyla picked up her electronic pads and turned ready to depart from her quarters, only to see Ketra sitting near the door, looking hopeful yet somewhat sombre.

"You know that you must remain in here until after I have finished my work," Teyla reminded Ketra, pausing in front of the small dragon. "If you had not devoured every blossom in that courtyard I could have left you back in Tjaru."

Ketra looked down, forlorn at not being allowed out. Teyla tried not to feel too guilty. She crouched down and stroked Ketra's head.

"I promised Mino and father that I would not leave you unattended in the city. You could not have remained in my quarters all day anyway, you would have needed to walk, to eat and have fresh air." She stroked down Ketra's neck and started again at the long snout. Ketra turned her sad eyes up to hers.

"You know that I am resistant to your attempts at sympathy," Teyla warned her. They had gone through this every day since Ketra had lost control upon discovering the blossom courtyard. "You will need to be able to restrain yourself before I can once again leave you alone in Tjaru. Restraint is a skill we must all learn as children." Teyla rubbed the backs of her fingers against one smooth dragon cheek and Ketra leant into it, her colouring growing more silvery with pleasure. "It will not be for much longer, I promise."

She stood up and smiled once more down at Ketra. "Trust me, you would not want to join me in the Council chamber, you would end up eating the furniture just to stave off boredom." Teyla had found herself growing bored some days when sitting on the Military Council. The tiny details of the military life had to be governed from the Council, which included not just overall military strategy, but also the more mundane details, such as how much piping should be laid for new training quarters, how many toilets, and how many hours sparring should be mandatory each day compared to live weapons training. It could get rather dry at times.

She triggered the exit and stepped out into the corridor outside, and looked back in to the glum Ketra whose colouring had returned to a sad dull grey. The lizard eyes lifted up to meet hers with faint hope. Teyla felt the compulsion to give in mixed with amusement at the clearly exaggerated sorrowful look Ketra was using.

"You must remain in the quarters," Teyla stressed. "Stay here."

She triggered the doors closed and as they did, she heard Ketra sigh heavily.

As Teyla turned to head down the corridor, she found herself copying Ketra and sighed with growing frustrated boredom at the rest of the day ahead of her. Though, at least at the end of the day's meetings she could return to Tjaru with Ketra later. The prospect of walking back through Tjaru's streets and seeing her family tonight gave her an extra stimulus to see through the rest of the day's work.

00000000

John resisted the urge to sigh heavily as they waited in the conference room. He was starting to feel the first touch of tiredness following the mission and his back was starting to feel sore. He could do with not being here; he just wanted to kick back and listen to some tunes and fall asleep. Not, sitting here, still waiting for the meeting that should have started fifteen minutes ago. He checked his watch – make that eighteen minutes ago.

"What's taking so long?" Rodney muttered, and not for the first time.

"Chuck said the Colonel was talking to Earth," Ford reported, also not for the first time.

"Couldn't they have called us here _after_ they'd done all their talking?" Rodney muttered.

Nineteen minutes.

"I've got important work I could be getting on with," Rodney muttered.

"It's 2000 hours," Ford pointed out. "What work would you be doing now?"

"Who's that?" Rodney asked instead of responded to Ford's baiting.

John looked up from his watch, and leant back in his chair to see into the Control Room through the slanted open doors of the conference room. "Mr Woolsey," he replied quietly. The stiff-necked man had visited the city twice before for various annoying reasons that John preferred not to think about. He was one of those men whose presence nearly always meant trouble – the bureaucratic type of trouble.

"Where did he come from?" Rodney asked.

"Must have come in on the Apollo," Ford replied, also leaning back in his chair alongside John, the two of them watching the smartly dressed Woolsey stood with Colonel Carter looking down at a laptop. Colonel Sumner stood close by, his arms crossed and looking tired himself.

"Don't remember us ordering him with the supplies," Ford joked weakly.

John watched Woolsey nodding to the laptop as he talked with some bigwig through the Gate, and beside him Colonel Carter began nodding as well, which was more encouraging. The sight blurred slightly and John looked away blinking before he rubbed his tired eyes. He definitely needed to sleep. He reached for the cup of dark coffee he had been ignoring, having hoped to go straight to bed after this meeting, but now he suspected he would need the caffeine just to make it _to_ the meeting let alone through it.

"Here they come," Ford muttered from beside John.

John gulped a full mouthful of the rather cold coffee as he looked back round to see that the Colonels and Woolsey were headed towards the conference room at last. He took another gulp of the brew, wincing with slight distaste at the coldness of the taste.

"I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting," Colonel Carter said as soon as she was through the doors, her tone seeming honest. "The call to Earth took longer than we expected."

"Looked like an important call," John joked lightly and Carter smiled at him. She also looked rather worn out he thought, but then everyone in the city had been looking tired lately. Except those newbies, but they would get there too.

"I'm sure you all remember Mr Woolsey?" Carter introduced as she gestured to Woolsey beside her as she sat down at the head of the strangely shaped ancient table system.

Nods were exchanged with Woolsey who sat down on Carter's right, in Sumner's normal place. John glanced at Sumner, knowing that the man had not taken well to Woolsey's intrusion before. The Colonel sat down on the other side of Rodney instead, leaving the scientist sandwiched between him and Woolsey.

"Mr Woolsey will be joining us for the foreseeable future," Carter began, and John thought he heard a carefully measured tone in her voice.

"Are we in trouble for something?" Rodney asked.

Carter smiled at that. "No Rodney, nothing like that. Mr Woolsey has been sent here by the IOA to gauge the possibility of establishing official contact with the Alliance."

John sat up a little straighter, the caffeine well and truly kicking in, or maybe it was just the kick of adrenaline.

"It seems clear now that contact with the Alliance will be inevitable," Woolsey said abruptly, possibly interrupting whatever else Colonel Carter might have been going to say, but she nodded with him. "At this point the IOA feel that we need to put our first toe in the water and see if we can find out more about the Alliance."

"Haven't we already dipped several toes in the water?" Rodney asked. "We've worked with the Elite twice now, and an Alliance military ship helped the Daedalus that one time."

"Yes, but as Major Sheppard has pointed out himself many times," Woolsey replied and John worked hard not to wince at the comment. "The Alliance's military may currently see us as no potential threat, but that could change. It is important that we understand more of the main body of the Alliance. The Elite are a small unit of the Alliance's vast military force, and that is only the frontline aspect of the Alliance as a whole. We have no idea how many planets the Alliance now includes, how many people, or how they run their governmental systems. Our experts back on Earth even doubt that such a vast empire as the Alliance will be able to hold itself together with such an ever-expanding border."

"They've being doing fine so far," Sumner pointed out.

"Major Sheppard's reports say otherwise. The High Council's power has been potentially undermined by the establishment of the Military Council, and the near takeover by Iketani proves that they are not as stable as they would like the rest of the galaxy to think."

"So we want to make nice?" Rodney concluded suspiciously.

Woolsey gave a half shrug. "Essentially, yes. The invitation to meet the Athosian leader offers the opportunity for us to see into the Alliance world, and for them to meet us on an even balanced field."

"As compared to a battlefield," Sumner added dryly.

"Indeed," Woolsey replied. "The strongest ties can often be made through friendships, often through establishing trading partnerships. Gaining such with the Athosian leader would thereby gain us not just insight into the Alliance, but perhaps win us some further allies within the organisation."

"And what if they don't like us?" Rodney asked.

Everyone glanced at him, but he had made a fair point in John's mind.

Carter leant forward again. "It's a risk we're going to have to take, Rodney," she replied with a smile in her voice.

"Maybe we should leave him here," John whispered loudly to Ford as he pointed towards Rodney. Ford, and even Carter, chuckled.

"Ultimately, whether the Alliance takes over half this galaxy, or collapses under its' own internal weight, we need to know all we can about them," Woolsey concluded more seriously.

"And get some of those space guns," Ford added quietly.

Carter didn't respond to that, but John saw her faint smile. "Therefore, first thing tomorrow we're sending a malp through to the Athosian Gate address supplied by Elite Warrior Emmagan, and if everything looks safe enough, your team will accompany Mr Woolsey to the city of Tjaru."

John rested his hand against his chin to hide the grin that wanted to break free.

"I cannot stress to you how important tomorrow's visit will be," Woolsey added, his tone forcefully serious. "This is essentially the official first contact between our peoples and we must all be on our very best behaviour." The last words were all stressed individually as he glanced around at everyone. Rodney seemed to receive a longer glance than the others, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Sumner began talking over him.

"The mission will, however, remain a military operation," Sumner stressed to Woolsey. "We are heading into unknown enemy territory, and I will be in command."

Woolsey nodded in response. "Of course, Colonel, but I think it would be preferable to think of this as a diplomatic mission."

John didn't care what you called it, because finally things were moving ahead. The chances were slim that Teyla would still be on Athos, but finally contact would begin with the Alliance.

The meeting broke up at that and John headed out swiftly out into the city, his mind turning with nervous excited thoughts, barely hearing Rodney and Ford's goodnight calls. Tomorrow really was important as Woolsey said. Woolsey was experienced at such meet and greets, which was why the IOA had put him on the Apollo with the supplies, which, John realised now, meant that they must have done so three weeks ago when the ship had left Earth. That meant that the IOA hadn't been totally ignorant and difficult about this decision, in fact they had sent Woolsey almost immediately to Pegasus. That fact made John feel better, because it seemed that they really had read his reports. They had heard his warnings, his recounting of a burning planet and a space fleet larger and more diverse than any that could ever be dreamt up back home.

The Alliance military and the Elite considered Atlantis a potential ally in the future, at least not to be shot at yet, but Teyla had warned him and Carter that the central powers of the Alliance were not all so happy about Atlantis. If there really were those at the heart of the Alliance who saw Atlantis as a threat to their total galaxy domination, or as having occupied the sacred city of the Ancestors, it could mean big trouble on the horizon. But, it was best to find out for sure now, while there was still half of Pegasus between them and while there were plenty of Wraith for the Alliance to focus on. And that gave Atlantis time, time to find out the lay of the land and perhaps win some support from inside the Alliance itself. Tomorrow really was perhaps the most important day for Atlantis since the expedition had arrived in Pegasus.

And of course had nothing to do with his thin hope that Teyla might still be on Athos.

Having reached his quarters, John stripped off his clothes and dropped immediately onto his bed, the caffeine apparently all used up already. As he lay on his side, his back wound faintly uncomfortable, the covers cool over his body, his dreams began with the remembered image of an entire planet burning in space and the Alliance's fleet watching its death.

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>TBC<p> 


	4. Conspirators

**Note:** This chapter is short as I've had to cut it from the following scene as together it would have been a chapter far too long to be posted in one go. So, this may be a short chapter, but I really enjoy this one.

**Chapter 4 - Conspirators**

00000

The station was dark, the night hours marked by artificial illumination only. This solar system's single sun hung far away in the distance, the red star's glow and warmth was dying away with its life. It would still outlive more generations that he could envisage, yet in the scope of suns, it was dying.

A door opened behind him, but he kept his eyes on the narrow silt of a porthole out of which he had been observing the distant sun among the vastness of other stars. He watched Tremlin's reflection stop a metre behind his shoulder.

"She is here," Tremlin reported.

"Where?" He asked, keeping his attention focused on the reflection, watching the man's expression closely.

"Creass says she is quartered up in the third level," Tremlin replied.

He grunted at that. "How lowly one falls," he muttered, his focus shifting back to the dying sun. How appropriate.

"He confirms that the report from Iasius was true," Tremlin added. "One side of her face is covered."

He nodded. He had already heard further confirmation from a scout. He grunted again, watching as a distant planet began to encroach through his view of the sun. "Did Iasius share what they had been discussing?"

"No, Sir," Tremlin replied, the tone suggesting that he had made sure to question carefully to allow for that exchange of information. "Creass gave no information either."

He considered that, not surprised, but it would have been far more useful to have had more information in his hand first. He resisted the urge to sigh heavily. There had been a day when men and women would have flocked to discover any and all information he required. He had been in charge of vast forces, all at his command. A sharp, focused deadly army. Now…now, he had only a handful of the most loyal, and more 'friends' and 'associates' than ever before. People who he had dealings with, who he could still manipulate as he needed, but they were nothing compared to how it had been before. His hands were tied inside the Alliance, but out here, his name held a different kind of power. A name known only through the dark shadows and among those who could make matters turn to their own advantage. And matters had been occurring as planned, but her presence here could risk all of that. Or, there was the possibility that she could be used. Her options were limited as well, and so, for the first time, they had a more equal footing.

He turned from the window and strode across the narrow room towards the door. He tugged his jacket into a more comfortable position. It was not his old uniform, but his clothes were tailored as close to them as possible. He had grown up wearing the Genii uniform and he had wished to die in it when he was old and grey.

The corridors of the station were busy for the late hour, but then there were plenty of late night activities supplied here for any tastes. He didn't distract himself with such pursuits, but he wasn't surprised that she had come here. Here she could play her perverted games with as many 'slaves' as she wished, have the worship she had lost, and perhaps now would never regain. However, despite her fallen station and her injuries, of which he still had no precise detail, she was still an Elite warrior, and one of the most devious women he had ever known.

The third level of the habitation quarters were slightly more presentable than the lower levels, but they were hardly luxury. His quarters here, which were of the best in the station, were still small compared to most bases and ships he had lived on before, but he had never been one for luxuries. He knew she had enjoyed her luxuries though, and that her new quarters here would be more than degrading to her sensibilities. He could use her pride against her, and no doubt her festering resentment as well.

Tremlin gestured towards a corridor ahead to the left and they proceeded down the quiet hallway. One of Creass' guards sat at a small table to one side. He glanced up and nodded as they passed. Creass had supplied a guard, but he had to wonder was that for her protection or to keep an eye on her?

There were only two doors at the end of the corridor and Tremlin pointed to the right hand one, before stepping back and away to wait outside.

The door opened just before he pressed the call button. He found that faintly amusing as he stepped inside the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

A long curtain of cream fabric hung from the ceiling, creating a partition from the rest of the room, and in the small space this side of the curtain a slave stood waiting.

He ignored the slave's offer of a drink and moved on along the partition curtain towards the gap through which he would enter the rest of the room.

The curtain was more transparent than he had thought, and as he moved at a steady unhurried pace along it, he began to see a shape on the other side. A woman seated in profile and dressed in creamy white, the colour blending with the curtain.

He smiled at her theatrics and made sure his boot falls were louder than normal. He set his hands behind his back and smiled wider.

"I was pleased to hear that the stories of your death were greatly exaggerated," he said through the curtain as he made his way towards the gap.

She chuckled, that deep throaty voice that she used to her full advantage.

"You should never believe all that you hear," she replied and there was no sign of weakness in her voice.

He stepped around the curtain and the rest of the small room came into view. Though the simple dark station room was dull and nondescript, it had been filled with overtly elegant furniture. There was a gilded table and chairs to one side, a wide reclined plush cushioned seat upon which she was sat, and behind her, a large dark wooden framed bed. Despite the location of her quarters on the third level of the station, Creass had provided her the best he could procure.

Running his eyes away from the rich materials and furniture, all crushed together into these small quarters, his gaze finally fell to where she sat, partially turned from him, as she set down a delicate ceramic cup. She was dressed very differently than he had seen her before. Almost all of her skin was covered, except for her turned cheek, her hands and her upper chest. The rounded tops of her breasts were on full display above the tightly corseted cream dress that hugged her waist and hips, covering her all the way down to her bare feet. He frowned at this new image, but his eyes focused mainly on her hair and face. Her previously excessively long hair was shorter, though still long enough to be piled up and pinned at the back of her head, and though her profile was turned to him, he could see that a white mask covered the far side of her face. The uncovered side of her face was as beautiful as ever and he knew that she was making sure he recalled her astounding beauty before she looked round at him.

She picked up a small piece of fruit and it disappeared between her luscious full lips.

"Acastus Kolya," she greeted him with amused pleasure as she finally looked round at him, giving him her full attention.

He smiled at her. "Iketani."

The half mask was beautiful in itself, white and perfectly modelled to her face shape. Silver detail ran along the jaw of the mask, as well as forming the eyebrow and a spiral curling away at the corner of the eyehole. Her beautiful blue eye could still be seen, intact, through that space. When she smiled only one side did so, but then there was the sensation of knowing that the smile continued unseen on the other side under the half mask. It created a curiosity within him that was unusual, but then this woman was unusual in almost every way.

He moved forward and smiled again. "I am glad to see that you are as beautiful as ever," he told her and she gestured to two chairs near her plush seat. He took the one closest to her. As he sat, he pulled off his gloves, placing them together and then folding them. "I was surprised to learn you had come here."

She settled herself against the back of her chair, watching him in that still manner of a predator. "Creass has much he can offer me."

Kolya secured his gloves over his belt, watching what he was doing so to deny her his full attention. "I am sure of that," he replied with amusement, glancing off to the elaborate furniture pressed around them.

"He does what he can," she replied, seemingly nonplussed by his comment.

Kolya turned his gaze back to her and sat as equally still in his seat. "Which leaves me to conclude that there is something you wish from me as well."

The one visible eyebrow rose beautifully. "You also have always had much to offer me."

He inclined his head briefly in acknowledgement, though knowing full well that in one particular area she had never won what she wanted from him. Her seat placed almost at the foot of the large bed emphasised that far from subtle point to him.

"And what precisely is it that you wish now?" He asked her directly.

She remained still, watching him, her expression more serious now, reading him as he was reading her.

"I wish your assistance," she finally replied.

He was not surprised, for why else would she have allowed him to know she was here. He waited for more.

"I am sure that you are very busy, disrupting the Alliance advance as little as you have been," she continued and Kolya controlled his reaction to her insult that though weak had still hit at his pride. She had always been very skilled at this game. She paused, her eyes lifting to his with a knowing smile before she looked away, and he noticed that her long eyelashes were the same cream colour as her dress.

"I would have thought you would have been too busy running from the Elite to have noticed," he responded in turn, pressing at what had to be open wound for her pride.

The frown was just noticeable to her expression, and that he had seen it at all, told him that she either wished him to see it, or that her emotions had broken free for a moment. The half of her forehead that he could see smoothed out again quickly.

"The Elite, and the rest of the Alliance, believe me dead," she told him.

"How foolish of them," he replied and she smiled in return.

"_I_ have no one chasing me anymore," she added, stressing the point that he had many who would leap at the chance to deliver him to the Genii government.

"And so what will you do with your time now?" He asked.

"Revenge, obviously," she replied instantly.

He nodded with unsurprised knowing. "And you wish my help to gain you that revenge."

She smiled again, with one side of her face only.

"I require certain…individuals of a certain skill and disposition, and I believe that of all those I know, that you would be able to recommend the very best of such individuals."

He smiled at her compliment and inclined his head again.

"And of course you will wish to know what you will gain in return for such assistance," she continued.

"Other than the honour of being able to assist you?" he added with amusement and she smiled back before continuing.

"It is likely that my revenge will lead to something that you wish most dearly," she said temptingly, her gaze dropping away briefly to return to his, looking at him from under her eyelashes. It was an overtly flirtatious look and they both knew he did not respond to such manipulations, so it was game, a back and forth. Perhaps also that he had never shared her bed, despite her many insinuations and flirtatious invitations, meant that she saw him as a particularly resistant challenge, one she still hoped to win.

"And what do I wish most dearly?" He asked her quietly, wondering if perhaps it was time to allow this game to another level.

She leant forward slightly, turning her body so that he had the best view of the deep shadow between her breasts.

"To return to your home," she whispered back. He had expected the more obvious of answers, but she had cut to the deepest point, and it was unsettling to know how transparent he could be to some.

She leant a little further toward him. "I know what it is like to be forced from your people, to be labelled the traitor when you have so much to offer them. Instead we are forced to watch our people grow weak and fall under greater domination." Her voice was quiet like the conspirators they were.

He did not disagree with her words, but waited for more she would add, letting her give her story, her plot, and reveal her mind.

"The Alliance will stretch itself so thin that it will break. When that day occurs, your people and mine will once again become prey to the Wraith." He listened to her voice his own thoughts. "The Alliance needs _strong_ leadership, not the weaklings that it has now." Her tone was studied temptation and manipulation, and he wondered why she was using it on him now, though he agreed with all she said.

"Leadership such as we both can provide," he finished for her with a knowing smile.

She smiled back, leaning a fraction closer, the shadow between her plump breasts darkening and deepening. "We are warriors, Kolya, it is our place to fight, and to clear the path to make our people strong."

He studied her for a long moment and she looked right back at him. She knew that he was well aware that she was manipulating him, using temptation to win him over, and yet still it worked, because they were two sides of the same coin in a way. She used her manipulation in one way and he used his in quite another. She would never be a member of the Elite again, he was sure of that, so revenge was all she had. He wondered what she would do beyond that day, but then it did not matter to her yet. If she could offer something that would help his own cause right now, then he could see the benefits to working with her.

He leant in towards her. "And how exactly are you going to help me clear the path?"

She smiled wider, the seductress now out in full force, and he acknowledged that her power was in no way reduced by the mask. "You do not need to do anything, except introduce me to the right individuals, but when I am finished, you will find the time will be perfect for you to begin walking down that path."

He contemplated that carefully. It seemed there was little risk for him from what she had told him so far.

"And what kind of individuals precisely do you require?" He asked her.

She leant even closer, and he dropped his eyes to the exposed cleavage openly now, trailing his eyes up the smooth skin to the fabric choker around her neck, and up to the elegant angle of her jaw. He looked back up into her blue eyes and she crooked a finger at him, tempting him closer. He smiled at the game and leant further forward, right into the warmth surrounding her, and closer to her lips, bared from the mask, open and tempting.

"Individuals who are willing to spy and individuals who are willing to hunt and kill those who are most powerful…" She whispered ever so quietly.

He looked from one of her eyes to the other. There was a chance that she was mad, but he saw only calculating intelligence in her eyes. He looked at the mask, so close to him now, and considered what injury it obscured and how angry and filled with hatred that could make a woman such as her to risk what she was proposing. He reached up and touched one finger under the chin of the mask, and lifted it up and partly aside. She did not withdraw from him, did not show any sign of embarrassment or anger.

He studied what he saw, the damage shocking in its place on such a stunning woman, but equally a testimony to her warrior status. He pushed the mask fully aside and she pulled its strap from over her hair, leaving her face fully on display.

"I know just the individuals for you to use," he told her as he leant in and pressed his lips to her smiling ones.

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>TBC<p> 


	5. First Visit

**Note:** We're getting into the meat of the story now. This is a long chapter, and one that I have wrestled into various shapes over many days, but have finally decided is good enough to post. And yes, that moment you are all waiting for is fast approaching, I promise.

**Chapter 5 – First Visit**

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It was a small courtyard and a purely personal space of his own in which he could enjoy the simplicity of solitude. The yard was tended personally by Mino, the official lead gardener, and Torren knew she took great pains to keep it as beautiful as possible for him. He always made sure to thank her frequently and, as usual, she behaved as if it was nothing and that he should not thank her for such a small part of her job. He was thankful though. This courtyard had been designed for him, established all those years ago when he had first moved into these Governing Buildings as the voted leader of the Athosian worlds. It had been a victorious time, a time in which he had been allowed to issue in great changes and create new policies for his people, and yet it was also a time always to be associated with grief and sadness, for not long before he had lost his beloved wife, Tagan, to the Wraith.

She had been a powerful determined woman, and she had fought back against the Wraith, saving their children, but not herself on that dark night. He saw so much of Tagan in Teyla now, in the strength in her eyes, in the skill with which she trained and the determination to never back down. That his daughters had been saved by his beloved wife had been his saving grace to go on, inspiring him to push himself forward to be the new elected leader after the previous had been culled that same fateful night as Tagan. The terrifying memories of that night still haunted Torren into always driving onwards. From his first day as leader, he had pushed to make Athos a main player in the then newly growing Alliance, and within a handful of years he had seen the Wraith pushed back. For the first time in known history, his people had been allowed to feel that their families were safe in their own homes.

It had been many further years after that the full territory of the Alliance had been formed, coherently and unified, but for Torren it had been that last night that Tagan had lived that had changed everything for him and perhaps the galaxy as a whole. For that night surely had inspired Teyla's choice to become the powerful Elite warrior that she had now become and therefore the face of the Elite that led the Alliance Military. That night, so long ago now, had so dramatically changed Torren's life that he often pondered that perhaps it had been necessary, that the Ancestors had sought to take Tagan so that her sacrifice could inspire and fashion her people's future to come. As much as he would give anything to have his dear wife returned to him, he still felt honoured that her passing, determined and defiant against the Wraith as it had been, had brought about so much good. He honoured her sacrifice everyday and strove to do the very best for their people with her in his heart.

His life had been one of complete service to his people and family since that night, to ensure that no other spouse, parent, or child was again to be taken needlessly by monsters in the night. He would serve that cause from these Governing Buildings as long as he was able. These buildings were now his home, since that first day as Leader and he had taken his family away from the warm familiar cloth walls of the family tent, which had still smelt so strongly of Tagan's favourite incense, to the cool stonewalls of the Governing Buildings. Tagan had never visited these buildings, had never slept beside him in the large bed in his lush personal quarters on the floor above, but he always felt especially close to her when sitting alone in this courtyard.

Perhaps it was because it was only here that he had allowed himself to dwell on her, other than when he climbed into his empty bed alone each night. In this yard, he could allow himself to consider how Tagan would have seen an issue and imagine how she would have advised him. Here in quiet solitude he had decided on many important changes for his people, new laws, political policies, and also those more personal such as his daughters' future. It had been here that he had finally decided on allowing Teyla to leave to train to become an Elite, if such agreement would have mattered to the Elite. He still wondered if they would have come to Tjaru and taken Teyla directly if he had not agreed to her leaving, but they had not done so, instead they had simply stood back and waited for his realisation that he had had no choice. Teyla would have made the choice in the end, for even from an infant she had been physically strong and advanced for her age. She had been borne to bring about change, of that he was sure, it was just in what manner that change was to happen and what sacrifice it would demand of her that he had feared. That he still feared.

It was only in this courtyard that he allowed himself to consider such fears, for normally such emotional concerns could cloud decisive political focus. Yet, here, alone in the quiet, he could relax enough, feel free enough, to hear that internal knowing voice of wisdom, that for so many years now sounded so like his lost wife's voice.

He and Tagan had always been very alike in their thinking, so perhaps that was why her voice still remained clear in his memory, even after so many years absent. Zabetha had become, in many ways, a confidant on the matters of their political world, but of his own heart and mind, Torren had no one to confide in anymore, not as he had shared with Tagan.

She would have been so happy with the way things had been lately – with Zabetha to be married and Teyla staying so much longer with them than normal. For once, the family buildings had activity in them again, especially with Rhakshar visiting weekly and the constant activity of the preparations for the wedding festivities. Torren's home was full of life again, not in the more common usual hustle and bustle of political life, but personal happy life in the family areas of the complex.

He stood up from the carved stone bench and wandered under the heavily weighted blossom tree, one branch allowed to hang low to let its soft petals fall over the small pool of water before him. Small birds chattered in the other trees set around the edge of the small yard, their songs mixing with the gentle sound of tumbling water that cascaded down the small waterfall Mino had designed to flow constantly into the pond of clear water. The relaxing sound of falling water was a favourite of his and now had also become closely associated with his time alone in this courtyard, with heartfelt feelings and inner reflections.

He crouched down by the side of the small pond, and watched a brightly coloured fish rise up, having seen his shadow cast over the water's surface. Torren reached to the sealed tub of feed concealed under a bright red leafed shrub, pulled out a small handful of the prepared dried food and scattered the pieces over the pond's surface. The fish rose up higher through the water to feed, his fellows with him, and Torren watched them contentedly, enjoying the simple recharging silence.

He had spent all of the morning resolving disputes that local courts across the Athosian worlds had been unable to themselves. Every member of the Athosian people, on any of their worlds, had the right to petition him for a ruling on a legal matter, though usually the petitioner's local courts would contact his legal advisors first and in most situations that lead to a resolution. Yet, there were always those who wished him to personally resolve an issue, and today's theme seemed to have been land disputes. All the petitioners had gone away with the situation resolved in some way, but not everyone was always happy. It had been a long morning, listening to arguments over complex tiny details and varying versions of local histories. This time alone was just what he needed.

As he stood up from the pool, still watching the last of the food being devoured, he heard soft footfalls moving through the room that led to the private courtyard. The large glass doors that overlooked the yard would allow him to see who it was, but he did not look round, hoping that it was someone simply moving through to another room beyond, possibly to his study to leave him some new work to complete.

However, it seemed that his privacy was at an end for today for the footfalls stopped in the open doorway and there was gentle clearing of a male throat. Torren smiled, despite the interruption, as he moved back from the pool and sat back down on the bench.

"Yes, Hakon?" He replied to the polite introduction.

"I am sorry to interrupt your time," Hakon began.

"You are not interrupting," Torren lied, for he knew that Hakon understood how important this daily quiet time was, and he trusted Hakon, his personal assistant, to judge how long Torren could remain in solitude.

Hakon had lived in the Governing Buildings as long as Torren, for Hakon's father had been a legal advisor and his mother a gardener. They had both been long-term friends of Torren and Tagan's, and he had felt deeply honoured by their agreement to work as part of his government. Hakon was the same age as Teyla, and had grown up alongside her and Zabetha, and he was practically a member of the family. Torren looked on him rather as an adopted nephew or cousin, but he valued Hakon for his efficiency and capability as well. Hakon's natural skills had become obvious when he had started work in the government legal offices apprenticing with his father, but it had become apparent that his skills and interest had been more directed towards administrative management.

Hakon was the most excellent of workers, always efficient and respectful of others, and he kept order to Torren's life in a way Torren knew he could not truly appreciate. Hakon saw to it that Torren's days were organised effectively, that the offices ran smoothly, and he kept items that he deemed unnecessary to 'trouble' Torren with off the schedule and only in need of final authorisation. Torren trusted Hakon's judgement in such things, for he had proven himself many times, though Torren in turn kept an eye on his assistant, who at times could be rather too efficient and had been known to work himself to illness before.

Torren looked up at Hakon with a waiting smile.

"I have completed all the contracts for the resolved disputes this morning and put your seal on them, if you wish to see them again?" Hakon offered, as he always did.

"No, they were straight forward enough, thank you," Torren replied.

Hakon nodded and looked down to his large electronic pad that was his hub of organisation. He pressed several buttons with a stylus, which would send a message to the administrators further away in the offices, authorising them to hand over the contracts to the morning's petitioners. Hakon tapped again at the pad.

"Ambassador Keltree has requested to visit tomorrow to discuss the matter of the fifth planet again," Hakon told him.

"Tell him that I will meet him tomorrow morning, put him in as the first meeting in my diary," Torren instructed.

"You are meeting with the legal department to discuss the wedding contract issues first thing tomorrow," Hakon reminded him.

"Yes, of course. I will see them afterwards. Ambassador Keltree is usually succinct in discussions and I should be with the department within an hour."

"Very well," Hakon replied, tapping away on his pad for a longer pause, likely sending a confirmation message to Keltree out via subspace.

"Have we heard from Charin yet?" Torren asked as Hakon tapped away, knowing that Hakon could do several things efficiently at once, another skill that set him out among others.

"I was leaving that till last," Hakon replied with a smile as he tapped the screen once more and looked up. "She spoke with Zabetha this morning, confirming that she will be present for the ceremony, and all being well with the High Council today, she should be here from tomorrow morning for all the festivities beforehand."

Torren smiled happily. "Good. That is good to hear."

Hakon nodded his agreement, for he cared deeply for Charin himself, as she too was part of Torren's extended adopted family and present through most of Hakon's formative years. She continued to play a massive role in Zabetha and Teyla's lives as well, filling the role of grandmother for them, and always had wise words to assist Torren through the sometimes-difficult landscape of fatherhood.

"Zabetha has requested that I ask you _again_," Hakon stressed the last word with amused emphasis, "to formalise the final list of officials who have been invited for the marriage ceremony."

Torren nodded. "Yes, I have compiled the list, it is in my administration file," he informed Hakon who began tapping away again. "But I am unsure who from Rhakshar's family will require invitations."

"I believe Zabetha has that in hand," Hakon informed him, his stylus still as he had no doubt had found the list and was reading through it. The limited time between the marriage announcement and the ceremony had not allowed much room for planning, and Torren had verbally invited several ambassadors, which meant that Zabetha's list had not been entirely complete.

"Are we not including Ambassador Keltree?" Hakon asked looking up at Torren with a curious expression.

Torren smiled at him. "I will perhaps add him to the list following my discussion with him tomorrow."

Hakon nodded, no comment or opinion obvious in his expression, but Torren could tell that Hakon did not entirely understand the decision.

"You know that Keltree's second son had aspirations to be Zabetha's husband when we announced her decision for a political marriage?" He pointed out to Hakon.

Hakon looked surprised, which was a rarity and Torren always enjoyed being able to catch the all seeing, efficient Hakon unawares from time to time.

"I had not known that," Hakon admitted.

"No, few did, I suspect the boy will turn his attention to Teyla next," Torren replied with amusement.

Hakon coughed to hide his shocked laugh as he tapped his pad again.

"Did Teyla return from the Council meeting last night?" Torren asked, not having spent the early meal with the rest of the family.

"Honoured Elite Emmagan returned last night, but departed again early this morning as the Military Council session was to be continued from yesterday," Hakon reported.

Torren nodded. "And she took Ketra with her?" He checked.

Hakon controlled his smile only faintly. "Yes, Sir."

"Good," Torren replied smiling himself.

"Mino watched them leave herself, as she continues to do each morning," Hakon informed him.

"Has she calmed herself at all?" Torren asked trying not to be too amused at the misfortune.

Hakon considered his answer carefully. "I would say that her anger has halved, but since it was so high to begin with…"

Torren smiled. "I understand."

"She has stopped muttering constantly about it though," Hakon added. "The others feel she is finally starting to accept what happened."

"Good," Torren replied.

He suspected if Ketra had been owned by anyone other than Teyla, that the dragon would have been banned completely from the Governing Buildings and repayment demanded. In addition, since the courtyard was technically owned by Torren himself, there was no true financial damage and the blossoms should return in time. It seemed that though everyone had great sympathy for Mino, the incident had become something of a joke. It was also amusing to most to see that the usually confident and scary looking beast that was Ketra now appeared fearful of Mino and would hide behind Teyla's legs whenever the lead gardener was around.

"Teyla plans to repay her in some way," Torren noted. "But, otherwise, the new blossoms are on the way?"

"Yes, I rechecked the shipment from Tulsa. The blossoms will be here in time for the wedding."

"At least then the courtyard will not to look like a stripped winter forest, and Mino will be a little happier," Torren considered.

"Meela made the misfortunate comment to Mino that perhaps the 'cut back' to the blossoms will do the courtyard good in the long run," Hakon informed him.

Torren winced up at him. "She did not?"

Hakon nodded. "Mino has downgraded her to tending the vases for the next week until she 'properly reflects on what has been lost'."

Torren winced again. "Poor Meela. Be sure to tell Teyla when she returns."

"I believe Honoured Elite Emmagan already knows," Hakon replied.

Torren looked up at Hakon with narrowed eyes. It was an ongoing game for him to break through Hakon's determination never to refer to Teyla in any way other than her official title. Torren understood the respect that Elite were due, Athos in particular being very proud of so many of her children being included within the Elite ranks, but Hakon had grown up with Teyla through their early years. Torren was determined to one day hear Hakon refer to her by her given name again. Just once.

Hakon ignored his look, knowing full well the meaning of it. He tapped away on his pad again. "I have the latest results from the bantos championship if you are interested-"

A door slid open in the other room, drawing Hakon's attention away from his pad and Torren. Hakon worked somewhat like a sentry over Torren's time and he frowned at whoever was approaching.

It turned out to be an administrator, who Hakon met in the middle of the room and a small pad was handed over. Torren watched Hakon with interest as a very shocked expression passed over the man's face before he looked down intently at the new pad. He tapped it with his thumb, his expression slightly less startled, but still abnormally out of place.

Torren waited patiently, and Hakon finally walked back towards the open glass doors to speak with him.

"Torren," Hakon began, "it appears that we have unexpected guests. They say they are from Atlantis."

A burst of surprise and excitement filled Torren's world, though he tried to tame it back somewhat.

Hakon frowned down at the pad in his hand. "This does appear to be an official invitation from you, and this is Honoured Elite Emmagan's pad."

Torren stood up and approached. "You mean that it is _Teyla's_ pad?" He asked to tease.

Hakon looked up at him with a lifted eyebrow. "Yes, _Torren_," he replied as he handed over the pad.

It was indeed the invitation that Torren had suggested Teyla might wish to extend to those in Atlantis, as she had told him she had done. She had been uncertain whether they would accept the invitation though, and if they did when a response could be expected, but it seemed that the day had arrived. Visitors from another galaxy were in Tjaru. The excitement bubbled strongly still, which was something not all that common for Torren. In his many years in service as leader of his people, he had seen more of interest than most and dealt daily with political complexities. However, this was entirely different; this was so very new and fascinating, and of course politically massive for his people and perhaps the Alliance as a whole. This must be handled very carefully. So, keeping a strong hold on his own excitement, he schooled his expression and walked inside from the courtyard and approached the waiting administrator.

"Did you see these visitors?" He asked.

"Yes," the woman replied.

"Tell me about them," Torren asked.

Everything was vital. These were people from another set of stars across the universe and their manners, behaviours, culture, and even appearance could be very alien to what he knew. He had questioned Teyla closely about her experiences with those from Atlantis, but she had seemed somewhat dismissive of his questions, stating that those living in Atlantis seemed the same as any people and very little was different from those in this galaxy. Apparently they too were descendants of the Ancestors. Lost cousins. However, even the closest relative could be destructive and difficult.

"They are five men, one clearly a politician," the administrator said with a faint smile, which Torren returned. Those that worked in these buildings were well versed in dealing with politicians.

"Three of them were openly carrying weapons, but when asked they surrendered them to the Gateway guards until they leave Tjaru. They appear relaxed though watchful," she continued.

So they were a cautious people, but he already knew of their military skills from the gossip across the Alliance, in the whispered stories about the small victories those from Atlantis had won against the Wraith.

"They presented themselves to the guards at the portal and were then escorted here by the Gateway guards. They seem polite yet restrained," the administrator concluded.

This suggested that they were respectful of politeness and that they had willingly handed over their weapons and allowed a guard escort was also good.

Torren nodded his thanks to her report and glanced at Hakon as he considered how to handle this momentous event. These were people from another galaxy and first impressions were vital. However, Torren understood the difference between meeting over a trading table or across a negotiation table. The first meeting between Athos and those from Atlantis should be more 'friendly' he felt.

"Shall I have them escorted to the conference room?" Hakon asked clearly seeing Torren's consideration.

"No," he replied, clearly surprising Hakon again. "Have the tearoom prepared and have two guards on duty in there before we enter." Yes, a more relaxed venue for discussion would be appropriate and in doing so perhaps these visitors would reveal their true nature over the sharing of tea.

Decided and allowing some of his anticipation free, Torren led the way out of the room and into the corridor beyond. This was what being a leader within the Alliance was about for him – the chance to be part of great change and able to contribute to the galaxy in a way other than warfare. Tagan would have loved this.

Hakon passed on Torren's orders via his pad and with the administrator as they followed behind Torren.

"Are they in the main entrance still?" Torren asked the administrator.

"Yes," the woman replied before she hurried away to pass along Torren's instructions.

Hakon's steps fell into place behind Torren's right shoulder.

"Did you truly invite them, Torren?" Hakon asked quietly.

"Yes, and Teyla passed the invitation to them for me," Torren replied.

As they turned into a new corridor, Torren noticed that already there were more guards on duty than normal. Tisirus, the captain of the guards, was clearly being cautious, and perhaps making a show of strength to the newcomers.

"You did not mention this invitation before," Hakon said, clearly surprised that Torren had not chosen to confide this intent before to him.

Torren glanced back at his assistant and friend. "I thought it best to keep it quiet, besides I had left it to Teyla's discretion upon her last interaction with Atlantis as to whether to pass on my invitation. She deemed them worthy of the offer."

Through the next set of doors, Torren noticed faces peering out of office doorways lining the corridor, people likely in hope of glimpsing the new visitors.

"It appears that the news has spread faster than even Ketra through the blossom courtyard," Torren noted and he heard Hakon let out an amused breath.

One last turn and they were heading down the main spinal corridor that led through the more public areas of the Governing Buildings, in a straight line towards the official entrance hall. At the far end of the spinal corridor, two doors stood closed to the entrance hall, but there were two small windows set high in the doors, through which some of the entrance hall could be observed. Torren was still too far away to see anything through them, but he did notice that the two guards on duty this side of the doors were stood more strictly than normal, suggesting that they could be seen through the windows by those on the other side. Torren's curious excitement threatened to spill free.

"Is this wise?" Hakon asked pointedly as they strode together down the long corridor.

"We frequently trade with people outside of the Alliance," Torren replied, understanding all that Hakon meant.

"The High Council sees Atlantis as a possible threat," Hakon returned.

"Those in the High Council have never met anyone from Atlantis, so their opinion is not justified," Torren countered.

"So, we are to find out for ourselves," Hakon concluded.

"Yes, and what better way is there to get to know others than through how they trade?" Torren asked.

In many ways, Torren considered trading to be the backbone of the all the connections established within the Alliance and out of it. Friendships begin through trade and grow stronger as the years pass and familiarity and understanding become well established.

"And if they are not to be trusted?" Hakon asked.

"Then we will know for ourselves and not through idle speculation," Torren replied.

They were almost to the doors and Torren could now see a limited part of the massive entrance hall through the tiny windows. The guards somehow grew even taller and thinner as he approached, their bellies drawn in and their shoulders held back. Torren always wondered if they would pass out if he remained near them too long.

A metre from the door, he slowed and glanced over his shoulder to Hakon, who nodded that he had received confirmation that everything was in place in the tearoom.

Torren paused for a moment, drawing himself up slightly straighter and settling into his well-established political demeanour, though the excited curiosity was still bubbling beneath. He moved forward and the guards reached out and opened the doors wide for him.

The entrance hall was a large wide space, filled with light from the three storey high half glass ceiling above. The focused sunlight shone down across the walls of the entrance hall, highlighting the beautiful wall murals that depicted scenes from Athosian history. The light hit them perfectly and made the colours shine. The display had caught the attention of three of the men waiting in the hall, their faces turned up at the painted drawings, one pointing. The depictions of the Wraith cullings were not Torren's most favoured, but they made a strong image, reminding visitors of what those of Athos, and all of this galaxy, had lived through before the days of the Alliance. These people's interest in the drawings struck him as significant, for he suspected that warriors looking to invade did not tend to admire art whilst waiting.

However, there were two men who stood slightly apart, not admiring the art, but looking around at the hall and the guards stood at attention around the entrance hall. As soon as Torren entered, it was these two separate men who responded instantly.

They looked like they could have come from any world in the known stars, and this first judgement of them brought Torren both relief and further fascination. He had wondered if their physical appearance would be somewhat different from what he knew, that perhaps their bodies may be structured slightly different, or that their eyes might close differently, or that their hair may be blue or some other such alien appearance that storytellers for generations had surmised about aliens outside the home galaxy. However, as Torren moved closer, it was startling apparent that Teyla had been correct, for these were normal human beings, just as he was. That immediately altered Torren's approach towards them, for if they were just like all other humans he had met and dealt with then perhaps he could judge their manners and behaviour with a more familiarity.

His second immediate assessment of them was that they were all dressed in dark toned clothes, suggesting a military use, which was further confirmed by the empty holsters on their thighs and the array of pockets on the jackets of three of them, which Torren suspected held military paraphernalia, though knew the Gateway guards would have assessed carefully.

One man was slightly dressed differently from the others, and he had been one of the two men stood separately away from the murals. This differently dressed man was clearly the man the administrator had identified as a politician, and Torren instantly saw why. The man's expression of polite interest and controlled smile were very familiar, and it reassured Torren further to see such familiar behaviour from a man from another galaxy. It seemed that perhaps politicians were the same from any stars.

"Greetings," Torren announced with a strong voice but friendly tone as he headed towards the men. The politician's smile grew wider, whereas the man behind his shoulder, his personal guard perhaps, looked at Torren with suspicious assessing eyes that instantly suggested to Torren that this was a career military man.

Torren stopped a few feet from the politician, and the other three men who had been looking at the murals all approached, keeping a loose circle, all appearing cautiously polite. They moved just like ordinary people, and already Torren found himself assessing emotions from them, just as he did anyone else from his experience.

"I am Torren, Leader of the Athosian worlds, and I welcome you to Tjaru," he introduced himself officially.

The political advisor smiled again and stepped closer, bridging the space between them.

"Leader Torren, thank you for your invitation for us to visit your world." Yes, definitely a politician, and one with whom speaking in official terms came naturally.

"My name is Mr Woolsey, this is Colonel Sumner, Lieutenant Ford, Dr McKay and Major Sheppard," he introduced each member of the group in turn, another polite and telling action.

The designations were military ranks or titles, telling Torren of a hierarchical structure, likely focusing on level of skill and experience. Each of the group nodded politely with a slight smile as their names were spoken and Torren nodded to each in greeting. Each of them met his eyes directly, all holding themselves tall, but not overly so. They were indeed relaxed, though clearly careful and well mannered. All good signs Torren felt. He had heard that those from Atlantis often visited planets across the portal system outside of the Alliance, so likely they were used to meeting new peoples.

The last title and name mentioned caught Torren's attention and he realised he had heard it before. As he exchanged nodded to with Major Sheppard at his introduction, Torren observed that this man seemed to give a far more honest smile than the others had.

"Would you be the Major Sheppard whom my eldest daughter has mentioned?" Torren asked.

The man's smile widened. "Yes, I've been honoured to meet and work with Honoured Elite Warrior Emmagan," he replied formally.

He was a taller man that Torren had expected, with dark hair and green eyes, and a relaxed style of standing that implied friendliness. Torren returned Major Sheppard's smile before turning his attention back to Mr Woolsey, for it was clear from the group's overall stance that the politician was leading this greeting. The stern looking Colonel Sumner stood silently behind Mr Woolsey's shoulder was clearly keeping his eyes on the guards lining the entrance hall.

"I am honoured that you have agreed to visit us," Torren began.

"I hope that this is a convenient time," Mr Woolsey asked, the civility continuing.

"I would always find time to meet with those from another galaxy," Torren replied honestly.

Mr Woolsey smiled in response, understanding what went unsaid that Torren was a busy man, but was happy to greet them. Mr Woolsey seemed to be relieved by that admission and Torren had the impression that he was not entirely comfortable. It occurred to Torren then that these people were surprised by him in turn, perhaps having suspected an Alliance trap or to be greeted by suspicious questions.

"If it would suit you, we could sit together and share some tea while we talk?" Torren invited them, gesturing to the corridor to the left that would lead the way to the tearoom.

"We would be honoured," Mr Woolsey replied, the greetings most definitely continuing to be well mannered.

Torren turned and led the way, Mr Woolsey falling into step beside him as they walked across the entrance hall and into the corridor beyond. There were more guards stationed here than usual as well, stood at attention at various points down the corridor.

"You have a very beautiful city," Mr Woolsey offered.

"Thank you," Torren replied. "Though I understand that the City of the Ancestors is stunning to behold." He had asked Teyla to recall all details that she could about the ancient city for him.

"The entrance to your city…" one man asked from behind, Dr McKay if Torren's memory was correct. Torren glanced round at him with an inviting expression.

"Gateway," Lt Ford corrected.

"Your Gateway," Dr McKay corrected himself, "it looks Ancient."

"Yes, it is very old," Torren replied.

"I mean it looks like it was built by the Ancients, the Ancestors?" Dr McKay clarified.

"Oh, I see. The Ancients," Torren considered the different title. "Yes, we believe that the Gateway worked as home to shield generators of some description that protected the former city that stood here."

"Really?" Dr McKay asked eagerly. "Are the shield generators still there?" His voice was partially cut off as if he had been nudged into silence.

"One of the generators is still present, but it is badly damaged and the other part, set in the other tower, was completely destroyed, we believe by the Wraith."

He led the way round a corner that brought them to the covered corridor that circled around two sides of the tea courtyard. In the centre of the yard, a large fountain bubbled water down over four tiers of stone bowls. Planted around the fountain, tea plants and trees created a lush exotic full expanse of varying greens across the courtyard. As Torren led them around the two open sides of the display, the scents from the plants and the fresh moisture from the fountain filling the air, he noticed that all but Colonel Sumner and Dr McKay took in the sight with appreciation.

"Was this city formally an Ancestor settlement?" Mr Woolsey asked as he looked away from the courtyard.

"We believe that it was, but not much of it remains for us to be entirely sure. The outer Ancestral city wall can still be seen in some places, one corner still standing, however what may have remained of the buildings inside were robbed away long ago," Torren explained as they reached the entrance to the tearoom.

The tearoom looked out to the tea courtyard, the wall overlooking the yard made entirely of perfectly clear glass. The tearoom was large, with various arrangements of seating possible inside, but currently there had been set a low central table, with soft cushions set on the floor around it and the welcoming tea ready. As Torren led the group inside the room, he gestured them towards the cushions, and he exchanged a nod with Hakon who stood waiting along with an assistant inside the far closed doors.

"Please sit," Torren invited the visitors as he moved around the table, his back to Hakon, and sat down on his own cushion, which had a slightly higher seat than the other cushions. It was a subtle difference, but one that could subtly make it clear who sat at the head of the table during informal meetings.

Those from Atlantis spread themselves out around the other three sides of the table, sitting down on the cushions without comment, but it was immediately clear to Torren that sitting on the floor was not something they did often in their culture. Dr McKay grumbled as he struggled to bend his legs enough to get comfortable on his cushion. The assistant behind Torren stepped forward and offered Dr McKay further cushions upon which to sit. He finally settled down on an arrangement of three and Torren watched the grunting display with faint yet hidden amusement, as he poured out the tea. Torren was also detected a sense of embarrassment from the rest of the group at Dr McKay's mutterings as he worked to become settled. Mr Woolsey worked to keep conversation going over the activity, stating again how well kept and friendly Tjaru seemed to be. Torren responded with customary pride and gratitude as he set the pot aside and gestured for the men to take up the full cups he had set out before them. It was again telling that they waited for that invitation, and already Torren was feeling carefully positive about those from Atlantis.

"Please, enjoy the tea," he said as he took first sip, an old custom to show that the tea was safe for all to drink.

"Does it have any citrus in it?" Dr McKay asked nervously as he peered into his cup.

"McKay," Major Sheppard hissed.

The welcoming tea was the usual one selected for meetings. It was a relaxing brew that had a gentle taste that most people could appreciate, however Dr McKay perhaps feared an intolerance to it.

"The tea is made from two types of leaves," Torren explained. "You can see the tea varieties all growing out in the courtyard."

They all turned and looked towards the glass wall, all admiring the view once more. Dr McKay had of course sat with his back to the view and had to crane his neck round to see.

Major Sheppard, who was sat next to Dr McKay, caught Torren's eye with what looked like an apologetic look. "We can't take him anywhere."

Torren smiled with surprised amusement at the comment, and saw Dr McKay look round affronted at Major Sheppard's comment. Torren made sure not to show any amusement when the doctor looked round at him.

"If you wish, I can have one of our gardeners show you the type of tea plants used in this brew," Torren offered.

"That won't be necessary," Mr Woolsey replied drawing attention back to him. He had sat on Torren's left, Lieutenant Ford beside him, and suitably Colonel Sumner had chosen to sit directly across the table from Torren.

Torren met the Colonel's suspicious gaze directly and then looked back to Mr Woolsey.

"I am pleased and honoured to welcome you here. Until recently, we heard little of Atlantis, and what we knew of you has been very incomplete. At least that was until my daughter told me of her encounter with Major Sheppard."

He glanced at the man again to see another friendly smile returned. There was no doubt from Teyla's report that the two events that had drawn the Elite together with those from Atlantis had been dangerous situations, but Major Sheppard seemed relaxed enough in recalling them. It seemed that indeed Atlantis looked favourably on those events to have taken up this invitation. These were clearly not aggressive enemies looking only to steal away the Alliance's power as some within the High Council feared. Torren had thought that idea foolish, and clearly repeated just to keep tensions high and focused away from contact with Atlantis. Though, there was still the chance that these who had been sent to meet with him were the vanguard of a more militant intent, but already Torren's instincts told him otherwise.

"We are pleased to be here, though admittedly we were a little surprised to receive your invitation," Mr Woolsey began honestly. "We had been under the impression that those in the Alliance considered us to be…" he searched for the right word, or perhaps was leaving it to Torren to name it.

"An unknown factor?" Torren decided on.

"Yes," Mr Woolsey agreed with a knowing look, clearly understanding the subtext. "However, we have hoped to make contact with those within the Alliance for some time. Yet, Major Sheppard's experiences informed us that such contact may not necessarily be well received by the High Council."

Torren was impressed that they understood somewhat of the complexities of the Alliance's inner workings.

"It is true that the High Council is undecided about Atlantis, but then they have not met any from your city. The worlds within the Alliance are not subject to the High Council's unsettled opinions, and Athos has always established strong friendships through trading."

"Is that what this is?" Colonel Sumner asked abruptly, although his tone was far less aggressive than Torren had expected. "Trading negotiations?"

Torren understood the man's point. "My people have always been farmers and traders, and we believe that it is through trading that alliances, of any degree even just of simple friendship, can be made. I understand that you often have need of fresh supplies, and the Athosian worlds produce high volumes of fresh grains, fruits, vegetables, pulses, teas, and timber that we trade with many worlds, both within and outside of the Alliance border."

"We would be very interested in discussing such trading," Mr Woolsey replied and Torren looked round at him, looking directly into the man's eyes and felt that he saw there honest respect. So quickly it had already been made clear to him that Atlantis was open to trade. This told him much of their attitude already, for some traders took many long hours of polite or ritualised discussion to reach the point of carefully revealing decisions and intentions. However, it appeared that those from Atlantis were of the more direct style of people, and Torren wondered if that was why the Elite, and Teyla in particular, had been able to work with these unknown people so effectively.

There was caution in Mr Woolsey's expression though, and that also impressed Torren, for it was clear that the precise detail and subtleties of politics was not something new to these people. He also considered that Mr Woolsey and those he worked with, or for, also understood the benefits they could gain from a trading relationship with Athos, a strong player in the Alliance. Torren smiled at Mr Woolsey, understanding flowing between them in that moment in a way that gave Torren a rush of hope. Perhaps the thoughts he secretly entertained about those who had brought the Ancestral City back to life were true. He pressed away his own inner excitement and focused on the situation as it was now and not what potentially could be to come. His own beliefs and hopes were not why he was in power, and he set them aside in his mind and focused on the purely political and friendly talks with these new people from another galaxy. Even the longest journey began with a single step and was travelled with simply putting one step after another.

"I understand that you originally travelled to our stars from another galaxy, and one world in particular among those stars?" He asked, pushing to see how much they would reveal, especially since he had shared a small amount of his people's history first.

"Yes, we come from a planet called Earth, in our home galaxy," Mr Woolsey replied.

"And my eldest daughter informs me that when the Ancestors left our stars that they travelled to your galaxy," he asked.

"Yes, when they had to abandon Atlantis they travelled to Earth," Mr Woolsey replied.

"Actually, they were on Earth first before they came to Pegasus originally," Dr McKay added as he set down his untouched teacup.

Torren considered that. "Then you believe Earth to be the original home of the Ancestors?" He asked, feeling strangely suspicious of such a theory.

"No, they came from another galaxy all together," Dr McKay replied, "at least we think that's where they were originally from because they could have travelled from another one or-"

"We're unclear as to exactly which galaxy the Ancients, the Ancestors, were originally from," Mr Woolsey cut into Dr McKay's response.

Torren nodded with interest.

"What is clear is that the Ancients established human populations in at least three galaxies that we know of," Dr McKay continued, not to be silenced by Mr Woolsey. Clearly the display of intellect was important to this man, and therefore perhaps to many of those from Earth.

"And you are also in contact with people from this other third galaxy of the Ancestors?" Torren asked, the notion new to him and somewhat amazing. His opinion of the Ancestors had always been strong, but to learn how much more they had achieved was thrilling. There were perhaps far more cousins out in the universe that he had ever considered.

"It's too far away for regular contact," Dr McKay replied, "and there isn't an Atlantis there that we know of, and of course there was the issue of the Ori-"

"Yes, we have been in contact with that other galaxy, and had to deal with another powerful enemy of your Ancestors there too," the Colonel stated interrupting Dr McKay's speech by simply speaking over him with a heavier tone.

Torren held back his natural reaction at hearing challenge in the military man's statement. Torren suspected this to be a seeking technique, through which the man sought to provoke Torren into expressing something he may not intend to. Torren had been on the receiving of such techniques many times before and was not put off by its use now. The man's attitude was a familiar one of career military men, but the hostility to the man made Torren pause. Were all of Earth's military forces of the same way of thinking as Colonel Sumner?

Torren glance aside to the other two men in the same military uniform. The younger man, Lieutenant Ford had his expression closely schooled, but his eyes were downwards to his teacup clearly so as not to be involved. Torren glanced to Major Sheppard next. He was also a military man and had fought alongside the Elite, yet Torren caught now a faint edge of disapproval directed towards Colonel Sumner's challenging words. However, Major Sheppard did not express that disapproval verbally. Interesting. Torren suspected that a Colonel outranked a Major in Earth's hierarchical system, and perhaps Colonel Sumner's attitude was not representative of all of Earth's military.

Torren returned his full attention to Colonel Sumner, who had been watching him in turn.

"Have you been victorious against these other enemies?" Torren asked with a neutral interested tone, though he feared for a moment that these people from so far away might have brought with them further threats. The last thing that Torren's home galaxy needed was a new powerful enemy.

"We've been very successful against overwhelming odds," Colonel Sumner replied simply.

There was the faintest edge of threat to the words as well as pride and a warning. Colonel Sumner made it clear that his people were strong and not to be manipulated or overpowered. This approach said that those from Atlantis saw the Alliance as a possible threat, but that they had visited today told Torren that they valued political contact and peace rather than war. At least, that was what he hoped their visit indicated.

He looked to Mr Woolsey, who pulled his eyes away from Colonel Sumner quickly. There was no emotion to read in Mr Woolsey's expression, but Torren felt there was a certain amount of divide between these two men. That they had not sat beside each other, or opposite across a discussion table told Torren much of their relationship and perhaps also by extension between Atlantis' political and military aspects. In that respect, they were not that different from most worlds within the Alliance. Torren decided to make his place clear.

"That is good to hear, and we have heard of your own successes against the Wraith. My people, the Athosians, we do not have a separate military within the Alliance, many of our people serve in the Alliance Military and, as you know, in the Elite, and we are far from defenceless, yet at our hearts we are, as I said, farmers and traders. I believe that skill has enabled us to be one of the primary trading forces within the Alliance, and yet establish a great many trading friendships with others outside the border."

Mr Woolsey nodded in response and Torren could tell that his point had been understood. He was not offering military insights or power, or even a simple way for them to assess the threat of the Alliance. His invitation to trade would be a way for Atlantis to be known gently and peacefully within the Alliance. He saw what he thought was agreement and possibly some relief in Mr Woolsey.

"And what would you want from us in return?" Colonel Sumner asked before Mr Woolsey could say anything in return.

Torren slid his gaze back to Colonel Sumner, but he saw cautious confusion in the man's eyes rather than any hostility now. He did not understand what Torren and his people would receive from such a trade in both supplies and in the political connections he could offer. This told Torren even more of how those of Earth, or at least how Colonel Sumner, viewed life.

"It is my obligation to my people to create and maintain stable and productive relations with other worlds. Trading need not be only over food or materials, but in common goals, shared knowledge, understanding, support and-"

"Weapons?" Colonel Sumner asked.

Torren laughed at that. "Colonel Sumner, as I am sure you are aware, those within the Alliance are not in need of any extra military power."

"But, those outside your borders are," he countered.

Torren nodded. "It is the purpose of the Alliance Military to see the end to the Wraith's domination over all worlds and peoples. It is all our hopes that the day will arrive when the Wraith will never threaten any lives again."

"That is our hope as well, Leader," Mr Woolsey stated, entering himself back into the conversation, and there was a level of strength to his voice that suggested to Torren that he too had not approved of Colonel Sumner's turn of phrase and attitude, but Torren appreciated the military man's directness. Colonel Sumner had made it clear that Atlantis would not be trading any weapons or any other military hardware any time soon, but then Torren would not have asked for such things.

"Atlantis is invested in seeing the end to the Wraith," Mr Woolsey continued. "In that we are in complete agreement with the Alliance, Leader." Torren wondered what it was that Atlantis disagreed with the Alliance about.

"That common ground is the very foundation of the Alliance," Torren pointed out.

"And will that common ground alone be enough to trade with?" Colonel Sumner asked sceptically.

Torren smiled at that, assuming that it was as much a joke as doubt. "No, I would think something more useful would be best."

"Such as slaves?" Colonel Sumner challenged again. Ah, this was a sticking point for Atlantis.

"No, you will find no slaves on the Athosian worlds," he stated clearly.

"But, the Alliance does expect slaves from the new worlds it includes during its war with the Wraith," Colonel Sumner replied.

"I regret that the trading of slaves is strong through most worlds in the Alliance, but there are strict laws to protect them as much as possible," Torren replied. "And it is not a mandatory requirement from worlds within the Alliance, though many do choose it for trading."

"It appears, Leader," Mr Woolsey said, "that many of the peoples outside the Alliance fear that becoming part of the Alliance will be just that – that they will have to surrender their people as slaves and their food in return for your protection from the Wraith." His tone was far more carefully delivered than Colonel Sumner's had been.

"I am afraid that gossiping stories and fear do spread themselves thick and fast among all peoples," Torren replied. "Once included within the border, new worlds are fully instructed on what they must offer, which is small for most newly added worlds, and never has one yet turned down the benefits they will gain."

"Benefits other than protection from the Wraith?" Dr McKay asked with interest.

"Yes, every world within the Alliance will be allowed to play a part of the whole. Every world or combined system will be allowed a representative on the High Council and another on the Military Council. The new world will choose ambassadors for each and every world or system within the Alliance, immediately bringing them into the fold for all the technology, education, friendship, trade, and healthcare that all within the Alliance are entitled to. They will have anything and everything they require within the Alliance. I have seen worlds rise from poor grain farmers to establishing their own hospitals, schools, military force, and even working as a marketing planet for thousands within the Alliance."

All five men listened intently to this information, confirming to Torren that they too had desperately sought knowledge this day.

"The Alliance was founded on the determination to fight back against the Wraith, but we are far more than that. Fighting the Wraith was the starting point and continues of course to be a vital stabilising element, but we are an intermix of cultures who together all trade, discuss, share, and work together in all other manners. The military only makes up a small percentage of all those who live in the Alliance, and the rest of us do not sit idly by behind the military held lines. The Alliance is stabilised as much from the inside as from its solid borders keeping out the Wraith."

"A very impressive accomplishment," Mr Woolsey replied with respect in his voice.

"Yes," Torren replied then smiled. "Not that it does not require a lot of work."

Mr Woolsey smiled wider. "I can imagine, so many planets all working together... Are you a member of the High Council, Leader?"

"Please call me Torren," Torren instructed Mr Woolsey. "My people do not believe in over formality," he said the last sentence with a slightly different tone making it also for Hakon's benefit, where he stood not far behind Torren's shoulder. No chance was to be wasted in this game with Hakon over Teyla's name.

"No, I am not a member of the High Council," Torren continued. "No world or system leader is allowed to be. However, the Athosian Councillor is a close friend of mine named Charin. She is highly respected by all our peoples and within the High Council. I have no doubt that she would thoroughly enjoy meeting those from Atlantis, and, as circumstances would have it, she should be in Tjaru tomorrow. Perhaps you may wish to meet her?"

"We would welcome the opportunity, thank you, Torren," Mr Woolsey replied with the understanding at what they were being offered.

"In fact, over the coming days there will be an increased number of ambassadors on Athos, since my youngest daughter, Zabetha, is to be wed."

"They finally set a date then, huh?" Major Sheppard asked with a knowing smile in his voice.

Torren looked to the man who had remained quiet through the discussions, but whose interest had been clear. "Yes, after much discussion. As the marriage will take place at the end of this week, there will be a large number of important guests for the festivities leading up to the marriage day as well as more at the ceremony." Torren glanced around the table to settle his gaze on Mr Woolsey again. "With so many visiting, there would be ample opportunities for you to meet others within the Alliance in a friendly setting," he suggested.

Mr Woolsey nodded as he considered the offer. "I will have to report back to my superiors and discuss the situation, but we, of course, appreciate the opportunity to meet more from the Alliance, under such careful introductions that you feel appropriate."

Torren smiled at that. "And then, if you feel more comfortable with the Alliance, then we may start trade discussions."

"Indeed, we may," Mr Woolsey nodded his agreement, and then sipped his tea, which he had barely touched, too intent of their conversation to drink.

"We should be going then," Colonel Sumner stated as he stood up from the table swiftly.

It seemed that the military man had made his assessment and asked his questions, and that was enough. Mr Woolsey had clearly not been prepared to leave so soon and had been halfway through sipping his tea. He set down the cup and dabbed at his mouth with a cloth as he stood up.

Dr McKay struggled to dig his way out of his cushioned position, and beside him Major Sheppard subtly helped him stand up. Torren made a mental note to make sure there would be chairs at their next meeting, if there was to be one.

"I hope that you choose to return to talk again, and I would be happy to welcome you tomorrow afternoon," he said.

"We thank you for your hospitality, Torren," Mr Woolsey replied. "And I do very much hope to see you again tomorrow."

Torren turned towards Hakon, who was already stepping forward with the pad that Teyla had previously given Atlantis. Torren took it and returned it to Mr Woolsey. "If you would like to keep this pad, it now contains records of the Athosian hours. I suggest that we meet again at the second quarter of the day?"

Mr Woolsey nodded and then frowned down at the pad in his had, but Dr McKay reached for it.

"Until tomorrow then," Mr Woolsey replied as he released the pad to Dr McKay.

"I will walk back with you to the entrance hall," Torren offered as he gestured them ahead of him towards the open door through which they had entered. The two guards on either side, who had relaxed somewhat during the tea, how looked tall and strict again.

Colonel Sumner strode between the guards, Lieutenant Ford on his heels. Hakon followed on after them, and Lieutenant Ford smiled at him, asking a question that Torren did not catch.

Mr Woolsey and Dr McKay, who was still shaking his legs out to return full circulation after having been sat on the floor, exited next, the returned pad the focus of the men's attention, but Major Sheppard held back for a moment, drawing Torren's attention solely on him.

"May I ask a question?" Major Sheppard asked carefully.

"Please ask any question," Torren replied honestly, grateful to have a chance to assess further this man who had impressed Teyla. Torren moved forward and Major Sheppard fell into step with him as they followed the others out into the open sided corridor outside again.

"Honoured Elite Emmagan, when she left us, she had been injured…?" Major Sheppard asked.

Torren was pleased to hear the concern in the man's voice, which informed him that those from Atlantis did care about such matters. "She is greatly improved, back to her usual self," he informed Major Sheppard.

"That's good to hear," Major Sheppard replied, looking honestly pleased to hear the news. "I didn't think much would hold her back."

Torren smiled at the comment. "Yes, though I attempted to insist that she remain resting as the family doctor recommended, but she was back training in the bantos yard within seven days."

"Sounds like Teyla," Major Sheppard replied with real warmth in his voice. But, it was not that or the comment itself that caught Torren's attention so sharply, but the use of Teyla's given name.

Torren snapped his attention fully round to the man beside him in shock, almost stumbling in his steps. Fortunately, Major Sheppard had been looking out at the tea courtyard and had missed Torren's stunned reaction. Torren recovered his steps and closed his mouth, realised belatedly that it would have been so satisfying if Hakon had overheard this.

Torren had never heard anyone other than family or the Elite themselves, refer to Teyla by her given first name. Despite the amusement at trying to persuade Hakon to use her name, Torren understood why Hakon did not. Yet, here was a man who, as far as Torren knew, had fought beside Teyla only twice and now used Teyla's given name. That she had shared it in the first place was stunning, and brought forth a whole new range of questions to Torren's mind.

He looked at Major Sheppard again with a new assessing eye, but saw nothing different than before. Teyla had not given much detail about the battles in which she had fought alongside those from Atlantis, but Torren had gained enough to know that Major Sheppard had been present when she had been so brutally injured recently. Perhaps it had been that shared battle experience that had formed the bond that had led her to share her given name with Major Sheppard? Torren also had to wonder if this man had assisted in allowing Teyla's recent injury from being any worse.

"If your superiors deem it possible, will you be returning with Mr Woolsey tomorrow?" He asked.

"I'm not sure to be honest," Major Sheppard replied, drawing his attention back in from the tea courtyard. Torren suspected that Major Sheppard's presence today on this visit had been due to his previous experience with Teyla and the Elite. However, Torren could see that Major Sheppard in turn had wanted to be here, for there was a far deeper interest in everything around them and before in the murals in the entrance hall than from the rest of the group from Atlantis.

"I hope that you are able to return," Torren told him, "as Teyla has been staying here with us, and would likely be back in the city tomorrow." Torren watched the man's reaction carefully.

"Really?" Major Sheppard replied, clearly interested in the opportunity, though his expression was carefully controlled, Torren felt. "It'd be good to catch up with her. I thought she would have been out hunting down more Wraith Queens by now."

Torren smiled at the comment delivered in such a humorous way, even though the content was not funny and only truth. He rather liked this unpredictable man.

"With her sister's wedding at the end of the week, she has been attempting to remain working as locally as possible," Torren explained.

"I'm glad they got over the paperwork issues and set a date," Major Sheppard remarked knowingly as he had before.

"Teyla told you of Zabetha and Rhakshar?" Torren asked, surprised anew at how much of her own life Teyla, one so private normally, had shared with this man.

"She told me she scares Rhakshar," Major Sheppard replied with a smile.

Torren smiled in reply, surprised again at the elegant use of humour. "Yes," he replied as they turned the corner away from the fountain, almost back to the entrance hall.

"She did not perhaps tell you why she is somewhat negative about Rhakshar?" Torren asked, suddenly seeing Major Sheppard as perhaps having insight into his eldest daughter.

Major Sheppard met his gaze for a moment and Torren thought he saw a flicker of reluctance to say anything, which was interesting. "She didn't, but I suggested she might be being too much of a big sister."

Torren chuckled again, and ahead Mr Woolsey and Dr McKay glanced back at them.

"I have told her the very same," Torren agreed. "However, she has rarely ever listened to her father." He felt abruptly sorry for the comment, for his daughter was an Elite warrior and he must afford her respect, but then, it was nice to speak of her with one who did not see her through the same lens as the rest of all those in the Alliance. "Please, do not tell her I said as much," he added.

"I didn't hear a thing," Major Sheppard replied immediately and they shared an amused look with one another.

Ahead, the rest of the group had reached the entrance hall and were waiting for him and Major Sheppard to join them.

"I look forward to hopefully seeing you again tomorrow," Torren addressed them all as they stood in a loose circle once more. Torren had directed his words mostly to Mr Woolsey, but he now turned to Major Sheppard again. "And I hope that you will also be able to join them, Major Sheppard. For my daughter would likely be pleased to see you again."

It was a rather sneaky move on his part, but he had subtly informed Mr Woolsey that Major Sheppard's presence would be appreciated if they visited again. He was not sure if that would be acceptable to their superiors, but if nothing else Major Sheppard would be a far more relaxed and approachable military representative of Atlantis than Colonel Sumner. Torren could also admit to himself that he was very much looking forward to seeing Major Sheppard interact with Teyla.

"Hopefully we will see you tomorrow then, Torren," Mr Woolsey concluded as he inclined his head.

Torren bowed his head in reply, and the rest of the group bowed their heads in return to him. Then, as one, the group from Atlantis all turned and moved away towards the waiting doors that took then back out into the sunlight of Tjaru. Major Sheppard glanced back once more and smiled at Torren, before stepping outside with the rest of his people. A small polite contingent of Gateway guards was waiting for them outside to escort them back to the portal.

Torren watched the group moving away down the sunlit path, watching how they moved, how they were talking with each other. They seemed to have taken the meeting positively, and they had been friendly enough, and were polite and clearly intelligent beings. There was aggression there though, as especially presented by Colonel Sumner and the weapons that had been surrendered to the Gateway guards. Yet, from Mr Woolsey, Torren suspected he saw a real desire for peace and the establishment of trade and friendship. And from Major Sheppard, he had seen that they had humour and concern for others.

Hakon stepped up behind him. "That was interesting," he remarked, his tone suggesting that he too had seen the meeting as positive.

Torren glanced round at him, at the man who had grown up through his early years with Teyla but would never call her by her name.

"Yes, it was," he replied and looked back through the glass exit to see the backs of the those from Atlantis disappear from view. "Very interesting."

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>TBC<p> 


	6. Risk

**Note:** So this is a tiny chapter, but in splitting it away from the next one, which is far longer, it will make posting far easier, and there are plenty of nice little clues in this chapter to chew on. But complain not, for I am posting the next chapter at the same time too. Hope everyone is enjoying some summer sunshine.

**Chapter 6 – Risk**

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Five faces stared up out of the pictures.

Five people, five targets, and five ways to expedite the cause, or possibly to kill it.

Kolya considered each of them again, playing through all that Iketani had told him. She had of course omitted much as to why these were her first five, but her personal reasons didn't matter to him. He only valued the potential she had tempted him with, which turned these five targets into an opportunity for him to exploit.

It was risky though, despite her assurances that he would not be linked to the outcome in any way. It took only one to break and confess what little they knew for a trail to be found. If it happened that way, then the most skilled hunters would be the ones following that trail and Kolya had no intention on being at the end of such a hunt.

If he involved himself, he had to be even more exceedingly cautious than he normally was in his activities. Currently he was still an unknown element to most, except within the Genii worlds, and he would keep it that way for the time being. Yes, for him to play his role in Iketani' plan he had made it clear to her how little he would involve himself, yet he knew that his part was vital for her. For all her skill in mind and fighting abilities, she was hardly one to slink through shadows for long. She wouldn't be able to hide for much longer, he was sure her pride wouldn't allow it.

He could easily supply her with all she needed for now - information and the five names for her to use. To contact those chosen five he could use intermediaries, doubling them up more than normal, to obscure any trail to him, and perhaps one or two of the less vital would have to be removed to make sure that any trail would fail should it be followed. There would be no link to him, and Iketani herself would handle the five he chose for her.

Which meant that his only risk was in Iketani herself. There was a chance that if she were caught that she would name him. That seemed the only real threat for him in this 'opportunity', and it was that which still gave him pause.

Iketani had been clever to choose him for her revenge, for in her vengeance she was offering him some revenge of his own, and she clearly knew how much it would tempt him. He wondered how she had known of that specific bubbling bitterness of failure he had been fostering, and which of his people had betrayed so much detail of him to her.

Failure was always an option in warfare, and he had tasted it a few times in the past, but after one incident it had bitten particularly sharply and deeply in the form of a bullet through his chest whilst retreating from a storm raged Atlantis.

His failure then, in a mission that had promised benefits that far outweighed the risks, had turned him into a sacrificial offering of the weakling leaders of the Genii. In their attempt to cull his influence and to prevent unsavoury repercussions of the failed capture of Atlantis, they had turned him into the sole cause for the raid. He had been ostracised, at least that was what the weakling Genii leader had called it when they had failed to assassinate him in his hospital bed.

Iketani' plan was another mission that offered benefits that far outweighed the risk to him again, but after Atlantis and its repercussions, he was more cautious now. He was no longer the powerful military leader he had been before; he was far more cunning and devious now.

He smiled at his own self-assessment as he picked up one of the target photos and considered again how much of a risk Iketani, with her own cunning and deviousness, could present to him. She was a warrior in her heart, but betrayal was in her blood as well. She, like him, understood when to sacrifice others and when to keep secrets. If she might reach a point where she would betray him he would have to kill her, and he suspected that she had come to the same conclusion about him from her own point of view. He was a risk to her, even if the trail was never followed. She clearly knew of his intelligence network within and outside the Alliance worlds, but not the details and he planned to keep it that way.

She was indeed a considerable risk to him, yet they had much to offer each other. Killing her would be a great loss, and in the future, if both their plans saw fruition, then they could support each other when the final step to power arrived. Yes, the benefits here outweighed the risks greatly.

He had seen that clearly during their discussion yesterday and he concluded the same now. He would give her the information she required and the names to implement her revenge, but no more than that. Unless, of course, she wished to share her body again with him, which he had accepted finally, even knowing she thought it a way to manipulate and persuade him further. No, he would not turn down another opportunity to enjoy her magnificent sensual skills again.

After all, there was little risk for him in her bed.

0000  
>TBC – straight onto the next chapter….<p> 


	7. Back to Tjaru

**Note:** This is the second chapter of the evening – another long one, but I hope insightful

**Chapter 7 – Back to Tjaru**

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A long early session of the Military Council had turned into a long mid meeting, which had flowed seamlessly into a late meeting. It had been a tiring almost endless list of concerns, all needing discussion and resolution so the session could be concluded for the rest of the week. It had been a very long day, but it was finally complete, and though the sun overhead glowed across the portal square, it was a very late hour. It would be dark on Athos, and Teyla marched quickly towards the portal eager to return to the warm evening air of Tjaru.

She had hoped to sit for the late meal with her father, but it was far too late now. The Council meeting had continued on so late to discuss the additional pressing issue added to the agenda, concerning the heightened resistance of the new populations on freed worlds. It was the Military Council's opinion that too often the same phrases and arguments had been heard on distant worlds, and the conclusion had been reached that there was a organised group who were instigating the spread of exaggerated tales, lies and rumours. Unfortunately, it seemed that they were having considerable success riling up the populations long before the Military even freed the system from the Wraith.

In the last few days, several Alliance representatives had been attacked on newly freed worlds. The representatives had safely withdrawn without serious injury, but it had taken time for the riots to cease on each world. The development was worrying and the discussion of decisive counteraction had gone on into this evening. The decision, now reached, was to send representatives further ahead of the military advance, to be accompanied by a military guard and to visit as frequently as was necessary to stabilise any issues those on the new world might have.

It had also been agreed that the Elite would investigate the source of this likely calculated and organised group behind this riling up of populations. Teyla had passed that work onto Nalla, who would assign it to the right Elite. Teyla had made only one suggestion, that perhaps Madesh could be utilised with his skills that Oneakka had been thoroughly testing. Madesh had thrown himself into assisting as much as he could at the Training facility, despite only just recovering from his own serious injury inflicted by Iketani. Oneakka seemed to have taken Madesh on as some sort of project. He was convinced that Madesh's skills in reading others' intentions so effectively could be developed into a very useable field skill. He had also begun training up Madesh's physical skills, much to the other man's pain. Oneakka had a point though, for potentially Madesh's skills could be extremely useful and this could be the first test of them, and him, in the field.

She had been planning to visit the Training Facility this afternoon, to see little Aki, but had once again been restrained by her Council work. She would have to visit another day to see the youngling again. Being far more local, she had been visiting Aki regularly. She was unsure why she was so intent to spend time with the infant, though perhaps it was that all of the Elite were determined to bring the child up outside of the shadow of his mother, Iketani. Iketani had abandoned her child long before he had even been born, having had the embryo removed at the Unspoken Clinic, and since the child was the presumably unintentional result of the affair she had used to influence a High Council member, she had likely planned to use the babe for blackmail once he was older if he had survived. If she had even cared that much. Teyla had made sure that once the baby was 'birthed' in the clinic, that he was quickly removed and taken to the secure Elite Training facility. The facility already had child-rearing facilities, to cater for the Elite who had children, and for any younglings that had already been selected by the Elite for training. Aki would become an Elite, if he so chose, but for the start of his life at least, he would be protected and reared by Elite. None of them would blame the boy for his parentage, but they would all make sure that he would never be influenced by the memory of his traitorous mother.

The familiar and welcoming scents of Athos greeted her as she stepped through the portal, banishing away all lingering dark and tiring thoughts. The open flattened space around the portal was mostly empty at this time of the evening, but there were two carts being loaded to one side, likely with supplies being brought in for preparations for the wedding festivities.

Two portal guards stood to either side bowed respectfully to her, while the rest of the portal guards, stationed in a small building set to one side of the portal, who had been sitting comfortably around a table playing a board game, now jumped up into ramrod straight attention at seeing her arrival. She nodded in their direction and continued onwards, Ketra's light footfalls at her side.

Tjaru stood in the near distance on the top of the rise, the well-used dry road leading up towards it. Large open fields ran to the right of the road and thick forest to the left. As Teyla headed up the quiet road, she walked on the left side, crunching over the loose stones thrown to the side of the road, to the soft bank at the edge of the forest. Ketra disappeared into the trees as normal, her delight clear at being out of the Military Council base and back in the fresh air.

Teyla too took great delight in drawing the fresh air into her lungs, tasting the scents of her childhood in the breeze. She could detect the gentle scents of the Tava plants from somewhere in the distance and the closer flowers and herbs across the fields with which the most popular incense was fashioned. The forest to her left felt dark and inviting, the warrior's nature in her used to keeping to shadows, and the Athosian in her always felt the call to walk among the trees.

Birds broke into flight abruptly from the treetops accompanied with Ketra's cheerful little noises as she bounded from tree to tree, chasing the bright coloured canopy birds from their night rests. The canopy swayed with Ketra's passage as she moved through the forest keeping up with Teyla as she walked outside the tree line along the road to Tjaru.

Stars shone high above the city in the distance, and though it was late evening, the summer's warmth made it pleasant and there would be more people moving around the city than normal at this hour.

Ketra let out a particularly exuberant cry from the trees and more birds fluttered away into the sky. Teyla smiled at Ketra's joy at such a simple yet vital thing as moving through the trees - to be able to play, free of restrictions and confinement. Teyla glanced into the dark forest, but could see little detail from where she walked. She wondered if this would be the night that Ketra decided to stay in the forest. Ahead the road began to split away from the tree line, one road parting away leading away around the forest, but Teyla followed the main road which led away from the trees, and keeping her gaze forward, Teyla allowed Ketra her choice. However, almost immediately she heard Ketra drop from a tree and the soft patter of feet on the dry road lifted Teyla's heart as Ketra scurried back to her side. Teyla reached the small distance down and ran her hand over Ketra's soft head by her knee. Ketra repeated her happy bubbly noise and rubbed her bright silvery head against Teyla's leg in response.

Teyla smiled down at Ketra, delighted that tonight would not be one of parting, and deep inside she relaxed, and the knowledge that her Council duties were complete and that she had several few days now to herself relaxed her even further. She was free to choose her visits to the Training facility, and on another day she could perhaps enjoy some shopping in the market places. She still had yet to select a wedding gift for Zabetha and Rhakshar.

Ketra rubbed her head against Teyla's knee again, the bubbling happy sounds of the dragon made Teyla grin. She nudged her knee back against Ketra, who bounced away across the road and back, to nudge again at Teyla's leg playfully. Teyla paused on the open space of the road glancing back down its length and up the rise towards Tjaru. There was no one else about. She looked back down to Ketra, who was looking up at her expectantly, the moonlight shining brightly across Ketra's night seeing eyes.

Teyla held still and then made a sudden playful move towards Ketra. Ketra jumped backwards, her spines dancing around her head as she chattered happy sounds. Teyla could see the excess energy bubbling to be expressed within Ketra's bunched shoulder muscles. Teyla jumped at her again and Ketra danced around to the side to nudge her snout against the back of Teyla's knee. Teyla circled around her, reaching in to tickle Ketra's back and then lightly grab at a soft ear before the dragon danced away. Ketra bounced on her agile feet, chirping in a chattery tone almost as if she were laughing at the game; until Teyla broke away into a run. Over her shoulder, Teyla heard Ketra's grunt of surprise and delight, and in no time, with a speed that a lizard of her size should not possess, Ketra was at her side again making to bump Teyla's leg again. Teyla darted away, and then launched herself up through the air to land on the balls of her feet, the excitement of simple play filling her with delight. The playfulness buzzing through her veins, she ran on faster and flipping up and over, her hands reaching for the ground as she cartwheeled several turns finally to land in a crouch, a light cloud of dust around her boots. Ketra bounced into her, a full body push that Teyla caught up in her arms and rolled back to the ground, Ketra held in her embrace.

They wrestled playfully, Teyla laughing happily before wrapping her arms tighter around Ketra, who snuggled into her in response. Teyla stroked down the length of Ketra's shinning bright silver back, the colour change a sure sign of Ketra's happiness. It had been too long since they had played, and such a rare thing for Teyla to engage in. The only play she could normally enjoy was the rush of adrenaline during challenging sparring sessions, as compared to the focused adrenaline of real warfare. That thought returned her back to the Council meeting, and the playfulness eased away slightly, but still feeling contented enough she slid Ketra aside enough so that she could stand up. Back up on her feet, Teyla brushed the road dust from her coat and trousers. Ketra danced around her, calmer herself now, but still excited at being out and free away from the locked environment of before.

Happy she was dust free, Teyla continued on the road, reaching down to Ketra at her side to clean her down as well. However, Ketra resisted by dancing away out of reach, only to drop and roll around in the dry dusty ground. The road's dirt would all fall away by the time Ketra reached the Governing Buildings, so Teyla continued on, her mind turning back onto work. She still had her reports from the long Council meeting to condense and collate into an official report for the Elite and Council records. She had planned do complete the work tonight, but she felt reluctant to now. The sense of freedom after a long day's work resisted anything but a late snack, perhaps shared with family, before bed and then a good night's sleep.

Ketra fell into step at Teyla's side once more and Teyla glanced down with a smile. Ketra shook her head, dislodging a small cloud of dirt, and her neck spines rustled loudly through the quiet night. Teyla reached down and pulled a piece of grass from Ketra's closest ear and then down further to brush some more from the long neck spines. Calmer now, and perhaps having seen the approaching tall spires of Tjaru's gateway, Ketra allowed the mothering.

In no time, the Gateway filled the horizon up the rise of the slope and their shadows cast over Teyla and Ketra in the moonlight. As they walked through the space between the ancient towers, the guards stood to smart attention, no need for identification or questions with her. Teyla wondered if any of them, or those higher up in the Gateway towers, had looked out earlier to the road and seen her playing with Ketra. She did not mind what they might think, for most likely they would assume it was training - the Elite warrior sparring with her frightening pet creature.

The streets of the city were reasonably quiet with only the occasional passing group, who all gave her wide space, all bowing their heads and whispering to the children with them that she was an Elite warrior. Teyla moved past, for the most part able to ignore the rapt gasps from the children and the whispered questions about Ketra.

The large complex of the Governing Buildings loomed ahead and Teyla found herself feeling the weight and of the day upon her. She would definitely leave the reports till tomorrow, hopefully fitting them in before she visited the Training Facility and Aki.

As she entered through the large entrance hall, she was aware of a strange buzz of excitement to the guards moving around. There were more than normal and they seemed to be animated about something, but of course, as soon as they saw her they lined up efficiently and held their bodies straight. She inclined her head to them, showing her approval for them and continued on her way.

The doors to the main corridor were pulled dramatically open for her as she approached, and she nodded her approval and thanks to the two guards before she strode quickly down the long length of the spinal corridor. As she turned corners and moved through other corridors, she saw that several of the offices were still open, which was not unusual, but there seemed to be more people standing around talking at this late hour than was normal. She did not catch any details for as soon as they saw her approaching they all worked to look busy and sent her polite nods of respect.

Another hallway later and the lobby that was the entrance to the family area of the complex came into view. Teyla happily walked through the doors, again opened for her by smartly silent guards, and once through she immediately felt more relaxed in the more colourful and comfortable decoration and atmosphere of the family space. She could smell freshly brewed tea and the faint smell of dinner still lingering.

She headed through the empty entertaining room to the large dinning room beyond to find late night candles were burning and yet the central powered light was still lit over the large dining table. At the far end sat Zabetha, with a large piece of parchment spread across the table's surface before her, and a very large number of pads piled around it. Zabetha was muttering to herself, while her assistant and friend Pyrha stood at her side, pointing to one area of the parchment.

Curious, but already suspecting this was likely some plans for the wedding festivities, Teyla headed down the length of the room. Pyrha noticed her presence first and bowed her head as she stepped back and away. Teyla had tried to make Pyrha see that she did not have to bow to her, but had long since given up.

Zabetha was still muttered to herself, leant over one section of the parchment, across which Teyla could now see there were sketched shapes. Zabetha always enjoyed working with physical material, having some natural skill for art, so it was not unexpected to see her using parchment as well as the electronic pads. Teyla turned her head to read the words scrawled across each drawn shape – each a name of two of a planet or system with individual names around the edges.

"Are we planning an invasion?" Teyla asked her sister, who finally noticed she was there and looked up with a frown.

"No, I am attempting to arrange where to seat all the guests at the tables for the wedding feast following the ceremony," she replied, though Teyla had already surmised as much. From the rubbed away notes and the scribbled writing, it appeared that Zabetha had been at this for some time. Clearly she was tiring at the late hour.

"Is the arrangement so vital?" Teyla asked and she saw Pyrha's pained wince.

Zabetha looked up sharply at her from the plan, and Teyla realised she had pressed too sensitive a nerve.

"Do you have any idea what it is like with just ten of these ambassadors or representatives? There will be at least forty of them on the day, and half of them are currently in heated discussion about some new policy with each other and I do not want my wedding to become the setting for a political battle," Zabetha stated. These last weeks had begun to press upon Zabetha. It surprised Teyla somewhat, for Zabetha had always been able to handle all manner of political events with apparent ease. Her marriage, however, appeared to be overly pressuring for her. Teyla had to wonder if she had some second thoughts.

Teyla looked back down at the arrangement across the parchment, aware that there was little that she could do to assist, and that Zabetha likely would not want her intervention anyway.

"If you were to seat them in a giant square and then you only have to worry about who is seated on each side of them," Teyla teased lightly, though she thought there was some wisdom in the suggestion. It was how military discussions were often held – around a large table, all facing inwards. Pyrha glanced up from where she was storing away pads, and she smiled vaguely over her shoulder at Teyla's joke.

"That may be the _simplistic_ way you handle things in the Elite, but in the real world there are subtleties, histories, and characters to consider here," Zabetha replied roughly, her head bowed over the large parchment. Her tone had been arrogant and dismissive of Teyla's work. Teyla tried not to react to it, but as usual, that tone annoyed her and she always found it difficult to allow such comments to pass unaddressed.

"Some might say that fighting for one's life surrounded by Wraith would be 'real life' and worrying about the pithy worries of a group of dignitaries as simple," she told her sister, trying to keep her tone light though already regretting what was clearly the start of another disagreement.

Pyrha had stepped away out of sight somewhere, and down by Teyla's left knee she heard Ketra settle down to the floor, clearly expecting to wait here for a while.

Zabetha did not look up from the plan as she scrubbed out one name, replaced it and then three others around the circle that represented a table. "It is these pithy worries that keep all our worlds in peace and the Alliance stable," she replied with a calmer, yet still arrogant tone.

"I was under the impression that the absence of the Wraith was also important in creating that peace," Teyla countered.

Zabetha stood up abruptly from the plan and faced Teyla directly. "If you do not wish to be here for the ceremony then just say so," Zabetha stated almost angrily.

Teyla frowned at her sister, taken back by the sudden rather aggressive statement. "I never said that I did not wish to be here for your ceremony."

"Yet, you belittle this," Zabetha replied gesturing to the plan with both hands. "Or shall I just seat you in the middle with your ever present swords and you can keep the peace among them all."

"If you think that will help," Teyla replied.

Zabetha sighed loudly and crossed her arms. She normally employed a more passive aggressive manner when arguing with Teyla, but it appeared that this evening Zabetha was ready for a confrontation. Teyla suspected that the stress of the wedding planning was to blame, but she was still surprised at the force in her sister. Zabetha tended to avoid direct confrontation, which perhaps made her a good politician, whereas Teyla preferred to be very direct. Or perhaps, since Teyla did not spend very much time with her sister, this was how Zabetha dealt with everyone else when they angered her. It was just that Teyla was not sure what she had done this evening to provoke such anger from her sister.

That anger was quickly being pulled under control though now, Zabetha's natural leadership skills returning. It appeared that as Zabetha had the ability to provoke Teyla too easily, so it was the same the other way around. They seemed able to easily annoy each other and start arguments from nothing. It was a pattern that had begun to concern Teyla, though she had no idea how to address it. If Zabetha were a fellow Elite, Teyla would invite her for a sparring session and through the simulated battle aggressions and issues easily came to the front and could be addressed. Teyla did not think that would be the right approach with her sister.

"This is important to me, Teyla," Zabetha stated after a pause. Her words where succinct and logically presented, but clearly her emotions were still high behind her controlled voice.

"I am aware of that," Teyla replied honestly.

"Just because I do not fight on the frontline like you, does not mean that my wedding has any less meaning."

Teyla frowned at her. "I have never thought that."

"Yet, you have done everything you can to avoid helping with this wedding and you continue to ignore Rhakshar."

"I do not ignore him," Teyla argued.

"No, you just glare at him and make him feel unwanted in this family."

Teyla was taken back by that suggestion, for she had thought she had been behaving far more pleasantly around Zabetha's soon to be husband.

"I do not glare at him," she responded.

"You make him uncomfortable."

"I make most people uncomfortable," Teyla replied with pained reality.

"Why would they not be? With your ever present scowl and guard dragon at your side," Zabetha began to rant. "You are constantly covered with weapons and you show your tattoos like a warning banner. Of course people are afraid of you."

"Zabetha," Torren's voice was soft, yet still cut through the air.

Teyla glanced round to see her father stood in the open doorway across the room, a glass of dark liquid in his hand.

"Is this how you intend to deal with disputes in the future when you may lead our people?" He asked Zabetha, his tone gentle.

Zabetha looked round at him. "Is this how you intend to end all of Teyla and my discussions? How are we ever to complete one if you constantly interrupt?"

Teyla barely controlled the smile that wanted to slip free, so surprised was she to hear Zabetha speaking back to their father. Torren also looked surprised, but he smiled as well.

"A fair point, however, I suggest that when dealing with an Elite, that you do not belittle the work that they do for us all." He turned and moved away back out of the doorway to the darkness of the orchard courtyard behind him. "And when you have finished your _discussion_ Teyla, I would wish to speak with you."

Teyla nodded in reply before he disappeared outside. She turned to her sister, who had once again sat back down at the table, her attention seemingly on her large complicated seating plan.

Teyla struggled with what to say to her sister. They sparred so much with words and feelings with each other, though there was love between them, it just seemed to be a struggle to express it. Not for the first time, did Teyla wonder why. Perhaps it was that they had both lost their mother so young, but their father had always been a kind and loving father to them. Teyla always aspired to be more like her father in dealing with others, he was her standard that she measured her growing political side against, so she could appreciate the important work that Zabetha did beside him. She respected what Zabetha did, what she may one day become, and yet she nearly always ended up fighting with her. Why was it that she could handle the most dangerous situations in the battlefield, give orders to thousands that might be their end, and yet have no idea how to resolve the ever present bickering with Zabetha?

"I did not mean to belittle your wedding plans in any way," Teyla admitted.

Zabetha looked up, emotions hovering just under the surface, her struggle with them clear. For a flash of a moment, a far more open vulnerable expression shifted under that surface, but it was gone behind Zabetha's control as she glanced back to the plan before her.

"Thank you," she replied simply.

Teyla watched her sister closely, struggling herself to try and identify what her instincts told her as being out of place. That brief moment of vulnerability that she had seen in Zabetha had caused a reaction in herself, one which confused her. It felt as if she had seen that expression before, long ago, but could not place it. It also seemed that, perhaps for that brief second, she had glimpsed a hidden truth in that vulnerability. The real sister who, Teyla could suddenly see, behaved very much under control and somewhat formal with her. Teyla reflected back on how at ease Zabetha was with her friends and with Rhakshar, and clearly that was not how she behaved around Teyla. Teyla understood the use of a facade of expression and control in dangerous and/or political situations, but it struck her, somewhat painfully in this moment, that her sister used such a facade in dealing with her. Perhaps she did in turn, for she did not know how to talk with her sister most of the time – they were too different and led such opposed lives.

"And I do value the work that you and the Elite do, Teyla. Of course I do," Zabetha continued, and Teyla could see the controlled façade was in place, though emotions still drove the honesty. Teyla did not doubt what Zabetha said, but the distance between them was so very clear. Teyla tried to remember if it had always been that way.

"Mother would have been very proud of you," Zabetha added, surprising Teyla.

The heavily emotional and unexpected comment bit into Teyla deeply and she felt the rush of grief that, despite how many years had passed, still felt so strong and powerful. She glanced away, noticing that Ketra now stood in the open doorway to the orchard courtyard, no doubt watching Father sitting out among the trees. That Ketra had not gone out there told Teyla that perhaps she really did understand her mistake in the blossom courtyard, but it would still be too soon to trust that faith. She focused on that fact, using it as the distraction it was, and the grief subsided somewhat, and she looked back to her sister.

"She would be equally proud of you," she told Zabetha. "I do appreciate that this wedding is very important to you. To our family. Of course it is significant, but I can be of no assistance to you with such matters as knowing who to seat beside whom," she confessed waving to the plan. "If you need my swords on the day, then I will be happy to 'keep the peace' for you at least." Zabetha smiled at that. "And I will limit myself to wearing only one weapon on the day, and I planned to ask you what you wish me to wear."

Zabetha looked rather shocked at the question. "You are an Elite, Teyla. You wear whatever you wish." Then she considered it further. "Though perhaps something in a pale tone to go with the other dresses?"

Teyla nodded with a smile, understanding the faint common ground they had just found, and the fact that both of them had quickly moved away from the subject of their lost mother. At least they shared that common ground as well, but it was still, even after so many years, a raw painful subject for them both and perhaps would be for the rest of their lives. Yet, that moment of vulnerability in Zabetha, it had seemed different to grief… It was long gone now of course - a flash of insight only that Teyla suspected Zabetha would regret having shown her if she had known. However, Zabetha was focused back on the seating plan, the moment between them over for now, and for once a _discussion_ had been ended between them without raised voices.

Teyla glanced back to check Ketra remained inside, which she was, and then realised something.

"I thought Rhakshar was supposed to be here today?"

"Work has detained him on his home world, but by staying there another day or so will allow him to conclude all his work for now and allow him to remain with us for the rest of the week until the ceremony," Zabetha replied as she reached over the parchment for a pad. "I know that you do not like him, but he is still the man that I have chosen, Teyla. I expect you to respect that." That direct and superior tone again, and Teyla felt her shoulders tensing. Why could it not have ended with nice words?

"I do respect your choices," Teyla informed her sister, trying to keep sternness out of her own voice. "However, if you are perhaps one day going to lead our people, then you need to accept the fact that some people just do not get along, Zabetha. I respect Rhakshar and your choice in him, but that does not mean that I am to pretend to be someone I am not."

Teyla moved away before the argument could begin again, disappointed in herself and Zabetha at having ended one discussion pleasantly only to start another. Zabetha said nothing in reply though, and as Teyla reached the open doorway to the courtyard she paused only to gesture for Ketra to follow her outside.

The orchard courtyard was full of mature fruit trees, all grown in neat rows, circling round the semi circular space in one corner where a circle of stone benches sat in the moonlight. Her father had taught her years ago about the cycles of life, that the fruit trees showed so beautifully – seedling to bud and blossom and then fruit, all to wither away with age. The cycle of life represented in the two semicircular benches creating a circle. The stone of the benches demonstrated that though life was temporary, cyclic, the overall nature of those cycles of life was as permanent as stone.

Once inside the neatly spaced trees, Teyla looked down at Ketra on her heels. "You may go in the trees," Teyla said, "just do NOT eat any of them."

Ketra glanced up at her with those knowing apologetic eyes again, her eyes seeming especially alien with the angle of the moonlight cutting through the widely spaced fruit trees.

"Go on," Teyla repeated and Ketra trundled off. Teyla continued along the path to the large stone benches, and heard the chatter of bubbling noises that was Ketra's happiness as she climbed up into one tree. Teyla suspected Ketra would likely eat some of the fruit and leaves, but very few and it was unlikely any one would notice. She was still young after all.

Torren was seated on the furthermost bench of the split circle of stone, the moonlight shining over his short hair and strong features. He looked up from swirling the glass that held the last of his late spirit, the only alcohol he usually drank. It had a soothing effect and helped him to fall asleep after having spent his day with so many busy thoughts and worries circling in his mind.

"From the raised tone and your tense shoulders, I take it that the _discussion_ ended well?" He asked in a quiet tone, which the orchard courtyard seemed to provoke.

Teyla became aware that indeed the tension lingered across her upper back, and she made herself relax, shaking her arms out to her sides lightly, and was reminded that she still wore her long coat and swords.

"Zabetha seems rather stressed today," she commented as she entered the circle of benches and sat on the bench opposite him. When she was younger she used to sit beside him out in this courtyard, but now she found she preferred to sit with her back to the majority of the trees, the moonlight over her shoulders. She did not wonder why that was, but as she sat down, she felt faintly relieved that he had not chosen the main family courtyard in which to sit tonight, for it had been the setting in her rather uncomfortable dream yesterday.

"A wedding is a stressful event, and I believe she is missing Rhakshar," Torren considered quietly.

"He has only been gone a handful of hands and will be here in a few days' time," Teyla pointed out.

Torren smiled at her, the smile a strange sad expression across his face. "One day, my daughter, you may understand further, but trust me, even a day apart can be torture."

Teyla knew he referred to Mother and she felt the tug of grief again. So many days could pass without mentioning her, but now twice in as many minutes.

"It is natural that Zabetha would be stressed," she considered. "And that thoughts of Mother may linger at this time," she added to let him know that she understood.

Her father nodded and they lapsed into silence for a long moment, through which Teyla heard Ketra scrabble through another tree, the leaves shaking and the bubbling noise echoed again. Father chuckled lightly at the sound.

"I can only imagine the sounds she made upon discovering the blossom yard," he said softly with amusement.

Teyla looked back at him with a pained expression that she was sure he could see in the bright twin moonlight. "Do not remind me."

"Hakon reports that Mino's anger has halved today."

"That is something at least, but I must find a way to suitably make amends."

"She will calm herself and grow to understand. Ketra is young and the young do such things. Remember the time when you and Hakon drew all over the main meeting room's walls?"

Teyla rolled her eyes. "Yes, simply because you insist on recalling the event so frequently."

Torren chuckled as he drank some more spirit. "You still will not share where the two of you learned such language?"

Teyla looked away with a smile. "No, Father," she repeated for perhaps the thousandth time.

He chuckled again. "Children must have their secrets I suppose, as adults must, but one day I shall find out."

There was a new determination in his voice now and she looked down from a particularly favourite star constellation of hers to see his eyes were bright.

"You missed a particularly interesting day today," he told her.

She frowned curiously at his tone. "Oh?"

"We had five visitors," he added.

She waited for more, but he held his tongue, seemingly enjoying himself though she could not imagine why. There were always visitors in the governing complex, all through the day and occasionally staying overnight.

"From Atlantis," he finally added and she now understood both his tone and his excitement.

She grinned at him. "And you do so enjoy first contact with new worlds."

"First contact with a new people from an entirely different galaxy! And people who discovered the lost City of the Ancestors."

She chuckled lightly at him. "I take it the meeting went well." She held her tongue with her other questions, wondering who exactly had been sent by Colonel Carter, if not herself, to meet with Torren.

"It was very short, an introduction only, but I believe full of potential."

"So, it seems that your plan may bloom into fruition after all?" She asked.

"I do hope to establish good relations with them and that perhaps we can learn from one another. I hope that the day will never come when people of this galaxy are pitted against each other instead of against the true monsters like the Wraith," he reflected.

Teyla glanced down at the shadows cast by the stone benches. "It has been my experience that some people can be as monstrous as any Wraith, Father."

"Too true," he replied sadly.

"But that was not the plan to which I was referring," she added looking back up at him from the broken shadow circle cast around them.

"What other plan could I have?" He asked curiously.

"The one in which you plan to one day walk in the City of the Ancestors."

He grinned widely and rocked back on the bench. "Ah, yes. Oh, Daughter, how I used to dream of the ancient tale of the magical lost city built by the Ancestors. It feels as if it were a part of my childhood as much as the harvest festivals and bantos training."

"And now you may one day walk the hallways that the Ancestors built."

"I hope so, though I did enjoy your description of your own visit to Atlantis," he added.

She nodded, knowing that it must have been nothing compared to the excitement he felt at the idea of being able to one day visit the city himself. His stories of the Ancestors had filled her childhood, the reverence for them still strong among their people. It was a conflict she still struggled with in knowing how weak and normal in many ways the Ancestors had actually been, yet her upbringing placed them on a high pedestal. They were not the all-seeing deities that her people believed, and yet, had not some them disappeared into a high world. What did that really mean? Her people might not care of the details in truth, they saw only the wisdom and advances that the Ancestors had provided, and believed that one day they would return in some form. That hope was still strong in her father, and perhaps, as had been suggested to her by others, many might believe that those in Atlantis were the start of that return.

"When I learnt that Atlantis had been found, and by people from another galaxy, other children of the Ancestors…I knew," her father continued wistfully. "I knew that they are going to be so important. They are here to help us and together we can unite all the children of the Ancestors once more."

Teyla smiled at her father. His faith in the Ancestors was only part of the magical quality of his soul. For him, she silently prayed now to those Ancestors, as he had taught her to do from her first years, and she asked them that Torren of Athos might one day walk the beautiful halls of Atlantis. She suspected that if she could find a way to speak to John again, that he might find a way to help fulfil that dream of her father's.

"Did Colonel Carter visit herself?" She asked, by way of starting the conversation towards the questions she really wished to ask.

"No, the most superior military representative was a rather stern warrior by the name of Colonel Sumner," he began.

"He is the military commander of the city," she informed him.

"Ah, that makes his suspiciousness more understandable," Torren reflected. "The main representative they sent was a political advisor or negotiator, by the name of Mr Woolsey."

"I do not know of him," she considered.

"It is a good sign that they sent such a man and not just a military team."

"There was a whole team then?"

"Yes, including Lieutenant Ford," he replied.

"A young, but capable warrior," Teyla informed him, knowing that he would want all available information to expand his knowledge of those he had met firsthand.

"Doctor McKay, who seemed an interesting character."

"Yes, he is that, but an extremely intelligent man."

"He was part of your group who rescued their lost medical doctor, yes?"

"Yes, he was, though he is not a warrior himself."

"No, clearly not," Torren replied with a smile. "He seemed fascinated by the Gateway and its former shield, so I suspect that the trading of Ancestor knowledge and experience may well form a major part of the interaction of our peoples."

Teyla nodded. "And you said there was one more?"

"Yes," he replied looking up from his glass. "Major Sheppard."

She felt a flush of pleasure to hear the name and know that he was alive and well. She had wondered if he had managed to fall down another hole. She regretted though that she had missed an opportunity to meet with him again, to discuss Atlantis and such.

"He seems a very affable man," Torren remarked drawing her attention back to him.

"He is an able warrior," Teyla replied, for some reason needing to stress that point.

"He asked after your health," he told her.

"That was kind of him."

"Yes, I thought so," Torren replied with a weighted tone.

She looked at him through the silvery moonlight, wondering at his tone. "They are honourable people, who seem to honestly care for one another. I saw for myself their determination to rescue their lost doctor, and not simply because he had knowledge that had to be retrieved, but because they cared for his wellbeing."

"They are human after all," Torren added and she felt oddly foolish for her strange little outburst. "I thought they seemed trustworthy enough and Mr Woolsey seemed happy with our discussion. I invited them back here tomorrow to continue."

She felt a promise of excitement, but tried to control it, surprised at herself.

"I invited Major Sheppard to join the visit, as I thought you may wish to see him again."

Teyla considered her father and the tone he had used again. She frowned at him slightly, but he simply lifted his eyebrows, asking if he had been correct.

"I suppose that I could draw up my reports here tomorrow," she said aloud as if she would not have put aside far more important work to be here tomorrow. She would visit Aki the following day and sort what she needed at the Training Facility then.

"They are visiting in the afternoon, in the second quarter. I suspect it would be helpful to have you here in the complex. They know you and trust you more than they do me, so your presence will be appreciated."

She frowned at his order, something that he rarely could do with her. "I am not a politician to sit and negotiate," she stressed to him.

Torren smiled at her. "Do you not sit on the Military Council? As you have done today?"

"That is very different. Elite do not involve ourselves in politics in the way that you do," she replied. "I would be happy to meet with them briefly, but I cannot involve myself in your trading discussions, especially as I am a member of the Military Council," she concluded.

"I would appreciate any involvement that you wish to make with those from Atlantis," Torren replied, his tone again strangely playful. "I only thought you might like the opportunity to again greet these warriors you have fought beside before."

Put that way, her objections seemed somewhat exaggerated and she felt strangely put in her place, by her father. She frowned at him, only to see an amused smile as he looked up and away to the tops of the trees behind her.

"I have some concerns though," he continued in a more serious manner.

"What concerns?"

"It appears that Atlantis has some less than positive opinions about the Alliance, and that many of the worlds they have visited outside our borders have fostered those opinions further."

"That is interesting to hear, but not entirely surprising," Teyla replied, noting the information and that she would ask John about it tomorrow, a niggling sense of excitement bubbled inside her middle at the thought, but she quickly turned her thoughts away to the more serious aspects. She could not tell her father yet about the possible group that were attempting to sabotage the Alliance expansion by riling up local populations to resist Alliance protection.

"It is clear that the matter of slavery and weaponry is an issue for them," Torren continued. "Which is understandable, and they do seem to understand their precarious station with the High Council."

Teyla nodded. "Yes, I warned them about the differing views of the High Council. Are you sure still that you wish to continue with this new trading?" She asked out of interest. "It is possible that the High Council may indeed turn against Atlantis."

Torren looked back at her from the orchard trees. "How else are we to make sure that does not happen, than through meeting these new peoples and introducing them to other worlds?"

"You plan to introduce them to the representatives and ambassadors coming to the wedding festivities," she guessed, only somewhat surprised.

Torren smiled. "Charin will be here tomorrow, as well as Thadeu and Jalada."

"They are arriving early for the festivities," Teyla commented.

"Thadeu loves the bantos championships, as you know, and I suspect that it is only because there will be a pause in the competitions for the wedding that he even agreed to attend the festivities at all."

Teyla laughed at that. Thadeu was the ambassador to Athos from the planet Gawa, and he had become a long-term friend of Torren's. Teyla had met him many times through her life and she had even sparred with him a few times. He was an able bantos fighter, though not to the standard of the championship players, but had he not gone into politics for his people, she suspected he could have made a living training bantos and lived on Athos happily.

"Jalada will be here early as she does spend so much time here anyway, and her schedule will be simpler for her to arrive early. Besides, she too enjoys the bantos championships," Torren replied. "They will be excellent first ambassadors to meet those from Atlantis, and they in turn will feedback their opinions to me."

"A very wise idea, Father," Teyla replied with a smile. "And of course, Charin being a member of the High Council…"

"Charin will love to meet them, since after all she read stories to me of the fabled city when I was younger," he replied. It was still strange for Teyla to imagine her father a young boy. "And Sitayi will be with her as well. As another ambassador, and one with her reputation, if she likes them, it will greatly help."

"Help encourage Atlantis to see the gentler side to the Alliance?" Teyla asked.

"It will perhaps be a gentler way than their first meeting with the Alliance to be across the bow of a military vessel."

"Indeed," Teyla agreed, admittedly positive with her father's plans. It would be a good introduction for Atlantis and a new focus of interest besides the wedding for the ambassadors and representatives visiting.

Behind her in the trees, Ketra dropped to the ground with a flurry of leaves and the bouncing crunch of a falling kita fruit. Teyla ignored the sound, although with the munching after it. Torren smiled, clearly having heard the sound himself.

"I am pleased that Charin will be here so early," Teyla reflected.

"Yes, it has been many days since you both saw one another."

"Only a solar cycle, but I understand from her letters that she is feeling her age more now than before," Teyla added, hopeful for more information on the woman who had been the only grandparent figure she had ever known.

"Her operation at Rosenthal was a complete success, and they predict that there will be no further deterioration of her heart for a while, but I suspect that yes, her Council days are growing to a close. I would not be surprised if she told me as such when she visits."

"It may be best for her health," Teyla reflected, feeling the same niggling worry she always did over Charin's health.

"Though I would be sorry to see her step aside from the Council, it would be wonderful to have her living back on Athos. I will of course offer her a home here if she wishes it," he added.

Teyla smiled. "Though, her cousin has a lovely home across the lake."

"Yes, perhaps she can live in both," Torren replied.

Teyla smiled at him. "I suspect that you are worrying about the lesser number of days that Zabetha will be here?"

"She will be here more than she will on Rhakshar's home, as they agreed in the marriage contact, but yes, it is true that most of her free time will be spent with her husband, especially as they have such affection for one another."

The soft patter of feet drew Teyla's attention and she looked round as Ketra approached, her long claws a distinctive sound against the stone pavings around the benches. Torren reached out a hand to Ketra as an invitation, and she approached him, dipping her head for his touch. He stroked the space between her ears.

"She seems to grow by the day," Torren reflected. Ketra liked him more than most, and enjoyed his attention, though since the blossom courtyard incident she had been more cautious around those in the Governing Buildings.

"Plumped up by the blossom food, I suspect," Teyla joked and Torren laughed deeply as he smiled at her. Ketra rubbed her head against Torren's hand once more before moving towards Teyla.

Teyla lifted her hand and Ketra slid under her touch, resting her chin on Teyla's thigh with a sigh. Teyla stroked Ketra's head peacefully, watching Ketra's eyes close and the purring began. The soft vibrations of the purring contentment were relaxing for Teyla in turn, and she sat happily watching Ketra's eyes closed in happiness.

"Her species are very interesting," Torren said softly into the silence distinguished by the purring. "They are so dangerous and built for hunting, yet they eat no meat and love deeply those they choose too."

Teyla lifted her eyes from Ketra to her father and understood that he wasn't just talking about Ketra, he was talking about her, and perhaps all Elite. She did not take offence, for there was something new in her father's eyes, and she waited for him to say more, but he did not.

"I think it is time for me to retire to sleep, after all tomorrow will be a very interesting day," he said as he stood and he smiled at his own words. He drank back the last of his drink and then bent forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, as he always did in the evenings she stayed. "Goodnight, daughter. May the Ancestors watch over you in your dreaming."

Teyla looked up at that comment, normal from him, yet strangely pointed for her now considering her dream yesterday, and which she still found herself considering from time to time.

Ketra had looked up at Torren's movement and he ran his hand over one of her ears before he walked away, and Ketra returned to her purring under Teyla's hand.

Teyla watched her father cross the courtyard, wondering at his words and manner. It was clear that the approaching wedding was influencing him as it was Zabetha, but the arrival of those from Atlantis had inspired him as well. He loved new things, especially if they were exciting and broke new ground, and that these new people lived in the City of the Ancestors it was no wonder that he was enjoying himself.

As he reached the candlelit entrance to the building, he turned and smiled at her again. She lifted a hand to wave to him goodnight, but he had stepped inside, leaving her and Ketra alone in the moonlight.

Teyla dropped her attention back to Ketra, listening to the purring and the softness of the dragon's skin.

It felt as if much was changing – Zabetha to marry, Rhakshar joining the family, Charin likely to retire, and the future prospect of Zabetha having children. Beyond Athos, the Alliance was expanding its borders, and Atlantis was a new element in that expansion and future. Out in the Wraith held stars, many worlds may wish protection, but there were many who were resisting. Out there were insidious forces working to undermine the Alliance's reach. All was changing and it was almost as if Teyla could feel it in the air against her skin. It may all turn out for good, but it caused a frisson of worry inside her, just as the dream had provoked and still did when she thought of it.

Yet, despite the concerns, and the unknowns, she realised that tomorrow, apart from the political introductions and manoeuvring, there was the simple enjoyable fact that she would again meet John Sheppard of Atlantis.

The worries gave way to a smile, which, with no one else around to see except the purring Ketra, Teyla allowed to show. She looked up at the sparkling stars overhead and wondered, not for the first time, if any of them might be the one around which Atlantis circled.

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>TBC<p> 


	8. The Athosians

**Note:** Had a long busy couple of weeks, so sorry for no chapter last week, however I will have few to put up this week. First chapter 8, and by the end of it, you will be glad to know that the next chapter should be posted tomorrow. Hope everyone is well.

**Chapter 8 – The Athosians**

0000

John frowned at his reflection. He had never been all that good at looking smart. He didn't usually care too much with his uniform, it was forgiving in that way normally, but this morning, all the creases and wriggles in his jacket stood out stubbornly. He had even snuck down to the laundry room early this morning to press the jacket and shirt some more, his ears still ringing with Woolsey's commands to be very 'smart', not just 'presentable' today. At least Woolsey or Colonel Carter hadn't insisted on him wearing his blues.

That said, his blues were starched to death, unlike the Atlantis uniforms. John tugged on the hem of his jacket, faintly hoping that might cure the wrinkle problem, but it didn't make much difference once he let go. He wondered if doing up the jacket's top button would help, but just couldn't face that – there was no way he was sitting around on the floor all day with politicians and feel half straggled and looking geeky.

He frowned at himself, knowing full well that he was ignoring the blatant fact that he was feeling somewhat anxious about today. He had had to sit through a two and a half hour lecture from Woolsey last night. He had been shut in the conference room alone with the bureaucrat, with Colonel Carter only visiting once to 'see how things were going'. John had tried to imply to her then that he needed a break from Woolsey, but his subtle pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Or rather, she had heard him, but had ignored him, and he was sure that he had seen her smiling as she had left, once again sealing him in alone with Woolsey. Woolsey had filled every minute of those two and a half hours as well, and since snacks and a large pot of coffee had already been helpfully supplied, John hadn't had real excuse to leave. He had toyed with the idea of asking to go to the bathroom, just to escape, but suspected Woolsey would just tell him that he wasn't allowed breaks and turn it into some new lecture subject on how politicians should have the bladder of a camel.

It would have helped if the lecture hadn't been about things John already knew, well half of it was and the other half John had already pretty much forgotten. Basically, it had been about political things that John didn't care about, such as how important it was to give a good handshake when meeting ambassadors, how to sit and to be alert and friendly at all times. It was amazing John hadn't fallen asleep or had gone through with his elaborate plan to strangle Woolsey with his impeccably pressed tie and make it look like a freak accident. Woolsey's tie had remained looking perfect through all of their visit to Athos yesterday and all through the evening. John wondered if Woolsey slept in it too, and guessed it would probably look pristine when he woke. Unlike John's jacket. He made one more attempt to flatten out the wrinkles, pressing the material flat against his body, hoping vainly that this time his body heat would kick out the creases. It didn't work and John decided he was being too much of a girl about the whole thing, so he turned his attention to his hair.

As much as he had tried to ignore Woolsey's implications about how he 'should' behave, and the important fact that Torren had personally asked John to visit today, John was starting to feel a touch anxious. Woolsey had stressed, repeatedly all through the lecture, how 'vital' and 'politically decisive' today's return visit to Athos would be. Woolsey seemed to think that there had been more to Torren's invitation for John to join the return party to Athos today. Woolsey was under the impression that Torren was suggesting that because John had personally worked with the Elite a couple of times that he had some sort of political clout for Atlantis in dealing with representatives in the Alliance. John had just thought it was an invitation to catch up with Teyla again.

Teyla.

Okay, so seeing her might be another reason why he was restyling his hair again. He knew his appearance didn't really matter much with her because she had already seen him at his worst – muddied, grumpy, and shut in a cage. Their first ever meeting hadn't been all that more flattering for him, for he had been laid on his back on a table about to be fed on by Wraith. She had come smashing down through the ceiling to land on the table, her boots stride him she had killed the Wraith in a blink. Not his best first impression and the second one hadn't been much better – walking into a three-way Mexican standoff with her at the centre, which had ended with him and Sumner hiding under a table during the shootout. Yet, despite all that, John felt compelled to make sure he looked as good as he could this time, to show her that he could be presentable when he was given the chance.

Why couldn't his hair, just for one day, do what he wanted it to?

He sighed and gave up. He had spent far too much time already stood in front of the mirror, which was a tall freestanding one that he had borrowed from McKay, with the promise that he would discuss Tjaru's Gateway shield generator technology with Torren. McKay was already chomping at the bit to get into the Gateway towers and see the Ancient technology. John doubted that would happen any time soon, but he would say something to Torren, just to keep McKay quiet.

Torren had seemed an okay guy. He had been more relaxed and friendly than John had expected from an Alliance political leader, and he had seemed sincere in his offer of trading. Though he had seemed very relaxed and approachable, John had still seen some steel behind it all. Torren of Athos wasn't a pushover, but then the father of Elite Warrior Teyla Emmagan wouldn't be. He had kind of reminded John of his grandfather a little, in the way he had looked directly at John, like he could see right into you. That same look that Grandpa had used to give John that said he knew damn well who had eaten all the cookies and fed the flapjack to the dog.

Woolsey had been very pleased with the meeting with Torren and all that he was offering. Through all of his 'how to be a good politician' lecture last night, John had gathered that the IOA were super keen that Woolsey make nice with as many within the Alliance as possible. It seemed that they had taken John's reports on the Alliance and the Elite very seriously and had even sent additional troops for Sumner for the city. Atlantis now had another three off world teams and almost twice the number of marines. The IOA wanted to follow the diplomatic route, but they were being smart about it, or at least someone in Earth Defence was being cautious. For the first time since John had stood on the Sythus and watched a planet burn, he felt somewhat optimistic about things with the Alliance. However, he hadn't planned to be so directly involved as playing politician and posterboy for the Atlantis military for a day. But, he could make it through a day of boring political small talk and strained smiles if it meant being able to talk with Teyla again; even if it was for just five minutes, he would be happy.

With that thought he checked his watch and realised he had spent too much time in front of the mirror. He gathered up his gear, working to ignore the bubbling excitement that was tempting him to imagine that moment when he would see Teyla again. Muttering at himself, he left his quarters and worked at being professional and not thinking about Teyla, focusing instead on his job and how 'vital' and 'politically decisive' today could be.

The Gate Room was as busy as normal. Captain Legg's team were just disappearing through the Gate, taking a few newbie marines with them, on a standard meet and greet. John wasn't sure which planet it was, but then Sumner didn't brief everyone on all the missions. Sumner himself had bowed out of today's return trip to Athos, stating that as military commander of the City that he had more important things to do than babysit politicians. McKay had also pulled out, citing that until he had some real Ancient tech to study, he was more useful elsewhere, which Mr Woolsey had immediately agreed with. John had shared a knowing look with Colonel Carter over that, as no one wanted McKay around during anything politically important. Therefore, today it would be down to John, Ford and half of Lorne's team to accompany Woolsey back to Tjaru.

Woolsey was already waiting in the Gate Room, stepping forward to stand in the space just evacuated by Legg's team. John was more than a little pleased to see Woolsey frown worriedly down at his tie.

John headed straight towards him and smiled politely at Woolsey. He was going to have to spend the whole day with the guy so he should make an effort.

"Ah, Major, good to see you're on time," Woolsey said as a greeting.

John bit on the inside of his lip to hold back the sarcastic reply he wanted to give. "Mr Woolsey," he said politely instead. See he was already being a good politician.

John busied himself checking his sidearm, the only weapon he was allowed to take, again due to Woolsey's concern about his posterboy status. Woolsey stood silently next to him. After checking the sidearm twice over, John was out of distraction techniques. He had tried to convince Woolsey and Carter that he should wear a tac vest at least, but they both wanted him appearing more "approachable". He had Ford and half of Lorne's team to watch his back, but John was feeling rather exposed without his P90 and vest. If he was wearing his tac vest it would have helped hide the creased jacket…

"Sheppard," Lorne said from John's right, finally adding something of interest into the uncomfortable silence stood with Woolsey.

John turned to see Lorne approaching with Ford and Lieutenant Martins. "Lorne," John greeted in return.

"You alright?" Lorne asked as he looked John up and down, "you're looking smarter than usual."

Ford chuckled behind John's shoulder. "Maybe he was brainwashed in the meeting last night?" He suggested.

Woolsey looked round at Ford, who looked a little sheepish in return.

"I can look smart when I want to," John replied to Lorne. He and Evan got on pretty well and as was typical in Atlantis that any chance to lighten a mood was taken, especially at the expense of a teammate.

"Okay," Lorne replied. "As long as you're not going to turn all politician on us," he added quieter, so Woolsey wouldn't hear.

"Trust me," John replied, "there's no chance. It's just for today. Make nice with the Alliance and then I'm back to normal."

"Until then we're stuck babysitting you," Lorne replied with a grin.

"You're babysitting Woolsey, _not_ _me_," John argued, knowing Lorne was having his fun.

"Okay, don't get upset, you'll mess up your hair," Lorne baited in reply.

John glared at him as Ford laughed, joking something about John needing a makeup case.

"Everybody set?" Sumner demanded from behind and they all turned to see him stood halfway down the wide staircase. They all nodded.

"Remember, this is still potentially enemy territory," he said forcefully, ignoring Woolsey's in breath that was on its way to being an objection. "You keep your eyes on them and keep your ears open at all times."

"Yes, Sir," they all variously chorused, except Woolsey who kept quiet for once, but his unsaid objection hung in the air. Once again, John was especially glad that Sumner wasn't coming with them today.

"Ready, Major?" Colonel Carter called down to John from the railing above.

John turned to look up at her and smiled. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Dial it up," she called to Chuck behind her.

The Gate began to light up and the team gathered before it, Woolsey stood slightly further back, still unsure exactly how far the vortex reached across the room. The wormhole rushed to life and snapped into place, and together they marched towards it, on their way back to Tjaru.

It was warmer than yesterday on Athos, the sun's heat strong and full. John pulled out his sunglasses immediately, pleased with himself for having brought them in his limited gear.

"Nice planet," Lorne muttered as he looked round at the rolling fields to the right side of the Gate. To the left, the line of the forest ran along the wide dry dirt road that led to Tjaru, which could be seen on the distant rise.

From the guard station to the left, four people approached, and John immediately recognised the commander from the Gateway yesterday. The man's scowl today was slightly less hostile. John watched his gaze hold longer on the new faces of Lorne's team as he approached with the three other guards.

"Good Afternoon," Woolsey greeted them moving forward, Martins and Lorne shifted with him, keeping close. John moved forward as well, keeping Woolsey on his left.

"Greetings," the gruff commander replied, his voice again slightly more pleasant than yesterday's offering. "Leader Torren has requested that we meet and escort you to your meeting with him."

"That's very kind," Woolsey replied, though John though the commander's comment hadn't necessarily been that kindly intended.

"My name is Tisirus and I am the Captain of the City Guard. I expect that during your time on Athos that you are to behave respectfully and politely at all times." Clearly the nice political talk was over with Tisirus, and now he was laying down a few rules.

"Of course," Woolsey replied before John could say anything.

"We are a welcoming people, but we will not tolerate any aggressive behaviour towards anyone," Tisirus continued. "If you do so, you will be arrested immediately and removed from the planet if necessary."

"Captain Tisirus, we are here for diplomatic talks," Woolsey argued, having finally heard the threats.

"We understand, Captain," John added before Woolsey could say any more.

John had some new respect for Tisirus now; he was saying that though Torren was allowing them into Tjaru, he would be watching them too. John could relate to that. More times than he could count, John had been stood keeping an eye on Colonel Carter or Elizabeth before her, working their political magic with Sumner looking on. John had had to keep quiet and stand back, watching and protecting, but not getting directly involved. Most of the time.

Tisirus seemed to hear some of that understanding in John's voice and stance, because something shifted in the man's expression as he looked at John. The man's deep brown eyes slid away to look over the group one more time.

"Very well," Tisirus finally replied.

Taking this as a cue, one of the other guards stepped forward next to Tisirus. He was a younger man, his smile friendlier and clearly less experienced than the other three guards.

"This is Abas," Tisirus introduced him. "He has been assigned to your group, and any delegation from Atlantis that visits our world. He will answer any of your questions, and it is important that you do not move anywhere within the city or Governing Buildings without his presence at all times."

John nodded at Abas. "Nice to meet you," he said, keeping his tone formal.

Abas nodded in reply and then to the others. "It is an honour to greet you. If you would accompany us to Tjaru, Torren will see you shortly."

"Lead the way," John replied before Woolsey could say anything. Already John was feeling more at ease about things, his anxiety from earlier dropping away as his own experience kicked in. Besides, he had forgotten how nice Athos was and that it seemed that every Athosian he had met so far seemed the same at their core – direct yet friendly, well except Tisirus and the friendly part.

Abas led the group forward, another guard at the front, Tisirus and the last guard following behind, and they left the area in front of the Gate and headed to join the road to Tjaru.

The road was busier than it had been yesterday, as had been the area around the Gate. However, clearly they stood out and everyone was giving them space. Abas led them to the right side of the road, out of the way of the carts rolling both ways down the road. The carts were in varying sizes, most laden with grain and what looked like huge bunches of flowers in the back of one. As it passed, a sweet pleasant smell drifted through the air around them. There were plenty of pedestrians as well today, again all going about their business, many of them carrying large sacks and boxes. Almost everyone they passed smiled and nodded politely to the strangers. From the curious looks, John gathered that who they were was out, but no one seemed hostile. In fact, John was feeling pretty relaxed. The sun was a nice steady warmth, with a faint promise of a cool breeze occasionally felt across the road.

John smiled at those he passed, taking in as much detail as he could and adding it to his observations from yesterday. Athosians appeared to come in every size and colour, from deep dark skin tones to pale, but he hadn't seen anyone with blonde hair, and every smiling face so far had held only brown eyes in varying shades. They were a strongly built people, who dressed in light and layered clothes, in varying colours and patterns. There was a lot of skin on display, as John remembered from yesterday. The majority of the women had their arms fully bared, some their midriffs, and many with slits in their loose flowing skirts or pants. Many of the men wore open shirts and most without sleeves. A few of the men on the passing carts, who were clearly farmers, displayed bare chests full of thick muscle. Athosians were clearly not people who simply sat in front of the telly all day.

As the road led further from the Gate, John realised all his group were quiet, and that Abas was walking at his side. The man looked round with an inviting polite smile, clearly ready to answer any of those questions Tisirus had suggested. Abas reminded John of Ford in that youthful eager way of his. John glanced back to see Ford was busy trying not to be obviously watching the tastefully bared midriffs and legs passing by.

Smiling at that, John looked back to Abas and thought maybe he should get the ball rolling with those questions.

"Seems a lot busier than yesterday," he started.

"Yes," Abas replied immediately, seeming pleased at the start of possible conversation. "And it will likely become far busier in the coming days due to the upcoming wedding."

"That would be Leader Torren's younger daughter's wedding?" Woolsey asked from behind John.

"Yes, in only four day's time now. Everyone is very excited, especially considering the many festivities to celebrate," Abas explained, seemingly keen to share information.

"What kinds of festivities?" Ford asked.

Abas glanced back at him and Woolsey. "Already this morning there were was a marketing fair, set up outside a nearby settlement. Tomorrow there will start several sporting competitions, and the most exciting event will be held on the day before the wedding itself. The carnival," Abas informed them rather excitedly.

"Carnival?" Lorne asked.

"Yes, there will be everything you can imagine," Abas replied animatedly. "Hundreds, if not thousands, of people will arrive here from across the Athosian worlds and further. All converging through and around Tjaru. There will be market stalls, food, acrobats, actors, musicians, bantos competitions, art, flower, and plant exhibitions, and more besides."

"Wow," John uttered. "Sounds like quite a party."

"Oh, indeed it will be," Abas replied.

"Are such carnivals held frequently on Athos?" Woolsey asked.

"On occasion, when an excuse can be found," Abas replied with a smile. "Though one has not been held for two yearly cycles, and this one, being of such a momentous event, will be far grander than any for a long time."

Woolsey asked Abas questions about Athosian traditions, most of which John didn't take in, he was too focused on Tjaru growing closer. Large flags of gold and green flapped at the height of the Gateway towers and at points along the wide expansive wall that surrounded the massive city.

As the road climbed up a gradual slope, a new breeze from the left drifted across them and they reached a junction in the road. The left hand road held most of the cart traffic, but the group followed the right hand road away from the forest line and towards Tjaru, the Gateway now towering over the landscape. A strong new breeze previously from the left was now at their backs, and it had the scent of water in the air. John glanced over his shoulder back towards the road junction, where the other road disappeared between the trees. John seemed to remember Teyla saying that there was a lake near the Tjaru.

Tisirus met John's eyes, the suspicion still there in the Athosian's expression. John smiled at him in a friendly way, just to annoy, before he turned back to looking where he was going.

Woolsey was in full question mode and had Abas onto the history of Tjaru.

"…yes, the Ancestor elements of the city walls can be seen just to the far left," Abas was saying in fully tour guide mode now. John glanced off to the left but his eye was drawn more to the clear sentry guards along the wall. "There is little left to tell us of the inner area of the Ancestral city. Some Ancestral historians suggest that perhaps the Gateway acted as entrance to a spiritual space rather than an inhabited city and that it was only occupied during attacks so that people could be protected by the shield. However, most disagree with that theory."

"Are all your settlements so large?" Woolsey asked.

"Tjaru is the largest of our cities. There are many settlements set out throughout the main continent, but mostly they are small and move with the hunting and the season. Larger permanent cities such as Tjaru, are less in number, but frequented by most for trading and celebrations."

John noticed the pride in Abas' voice and studied the guy a little closer from behind the protection of his sunglasses. The City Guard uniform was of a simple design and in a plain two-toned brown colour, making them far less colourful than most of the other Athosians around them. The front of the uniform was crossed over and secured with large buttons. It had a high collar, almost oriental in design, and the jacket was tailored close in what looked like a summer friendly light material. Each of the guards wore a gun, hopefully with a stun setting, on one hip, and on the other hip sat two interesting additions – a sheathed dagger and a short stick. These were secured at the left hip in such a way that they didn't bounce against the leg, but John suspected they could be very easily drawn. There were several small pouches set along the back of the belt, rather like on a cop's belt. The uniform pants were tailored close, down to sturdy well used looking boots. All in all, it was a uniform that would meld in with almost any other guard or military uniform anywhere. It was designed to set the wearer apart from others, but not to stand out. In the shadows, the dark natural tones would be the best camoflauge.

A shadow fell over them, and John looked up to see that the Gateway towers' shadows had reached them, stretching out from the city like fingers along the road. As it had yesterday, the Gateway demanded their attention. John stared up at the curved towers in fascination. They were clearly Ancient, and John could think of a few towers in Atlantis that were of a similar design, but there was something unique about these Athosian towers. To say that they made an impressive entrance to Tjaru didn't begin to describe it.

Seeing the group's fascination with the approaching Gateway, Abas began on their history.

"As far as the oldest records run, the shield emitters of the Gateway did not last long after the leaving of the Ancestors. Our historians, and those of other Alliance worlds, believe that when the Ancestors left our stars, that the Wraith set out to destroy as much of the Ancestor technology left behind as they could. Frustrated by their inability to use the technology themselves, and perhaps from fear that humans would use it against them," Abas explained.

"But, they left the Gateway?" Lorne asked, his neck craned back to look up at the towers.

"They destroyed one of the shield generators, and the other was damaged beyond repair. I suppose that they did not believe that the towers themselves were a threat," Abas considered. "We do know that there was a descendent of the Ancestors, named Madumo, who was part Athosian, who remained on Athos to help defend our people. Perhaps that was why the Gateway was saved," Abas suggested.

"What happened to Madumo?" John asked.

"She was killed in a later culling," Abas replied with a touch of sadness. "The account of her death though says that her body was never found, so it is said that she finally left to be with the other Ancestors. Many believe that she still oversees the fate of the Athosians."

John exchanged a look with Ford over his shoulder.

"You seem to know a lot about Tjaru and her history," Woolsey asked Abas, and John wondered if Torren had purposefully assigned them a history student as a guard.

"All Athosians are fully versed in history. It is a vital for all to understand the past, for if not then we will all simply repeat the same mistakes as those who came before us. From our earliest years, Athosian children learn the old songs and histories of the Ancestors and Madumo. We learn all we can of the Ancestors, and we remember them always in our prayers."

The shadow of the Gateway drew deeper and the air cooled around them, the sun's brightness now completely blocked by the right hand tower. They were almost at the entrance to Tjaru. It, like the road, was busier today than yesterday. There were two lines of people waiting to enter the city between the two curving towers, passing through a check system by the looks of it. At a glance John suspected one line to be regular carts and traders, while the other line were mostly people on foot, likely visiting for personal not business reasons. A few wore very different clothes and already John could tell they were not Athosian – tourists perhaps?

Abas, at the front of the group with John, lifted his hand to the City Guards at the front of the lines, and with the universal wave of 'okay go through' the group from Atlantis were let immediately into Tjaru. There was no request to surrender weapons today John couldn't help but notice, which was interesting.

"Do people have to have a pass to enter the city?" Woolsey asked.

"Anyone may enter Tjaru, however everyone who passes through the Gateway is noticed and briefly questioned, especially those not from any of the Athosian worlds. Being that the city is the seat of our Leader it is important that all who enter the city be monitored. Most of us in the City Guards can recognise on sight those who live in the city or who regularly trade within the walls. There are some restrictions on other traders working within the city and possibly taking trade from local peoples. It will of course be different for the carnival; the trader stalls will fill the surrounding fields, any welcome to sell their wares together. During the last carnival, the stalls stretched as far as the eye could see."

As Abas spoke, they were walking right through the Gateway, the air feeling slightly different between the towers. John dropped his head right back, studying the towers overhead with more focus than yesterday. There was an upward curved walkway between the towers, linking them. Walking between the giant footings of the towers, it felt as if they were actually one structure rather than two. Faintly, on the edge of his consciousness, John felt the sensation of Ancient technology. He could recognise it now after three years in Atlantis, but the Gateway felt different somehow…

"Do the towers join up underground?" John asked.

"Yes, they combine together under our feet," Abas replied with surprise in his voice. "The historians and Ancestral technicians believe it designed that way so that Wraith could not bury under the Gateway and therefore under the shield. How did you know that?"

John looked away from the towers, which they had now passed between, to find not just Abas frowning at him, but Lorne and Woolsey as well.

"Just a guess," John replied off hand, but he could tell that Abas was not reassured. "Living in Atlantis means we see a lot of Ancient, Ancestor, architecture," John quickly explained.

Abas immediately nodded at that, his expression relaxing. "We have heard wonderful stories about the great Ancestral City. It must be wondrous to live in such a place."

John nodded, and Woolsey asked Abas another question about Tjaru's history.

They were moving quickly away from the Gateway, through an open space through which various routes branched out into the city, but John turned to look back over his shoulder at the Gateway again. The echo of the Ancient tech lingered, but more so because he had accurately guessed that the Gateway was a single powerful structure. It made sense to him now, because when you walked through the Gateway you weren't walking between two pieces of Ancient technology, you were walking through one. No wonder the normal Ancient buzz had been stronger. John had to wonder if the Gateway had been just housing for the shield generators.

Tisirus came into John's view again, but his expression was more curious now rather than suspicious. John looked away again, which was good timing because there was a cart parked right in front of him that he would have walked into. Two carts, both laden with thick cloth, had collided and the two traders were stood between them discussing how best to repair a wheel. Considering the technology available in the Alliance, it was surprising that in Tjaru people were still using carts. Carts pulled by an animal close to a cow, John noted. As they passed one of the two carts, John got a good look at one of the animals harnessed to it. The creature had four legs, was patchy in colour like some cows, but it was more delicately built. It had a long neck like a horse, but a head that looked more like a buffalo. It had two horns curling out and up from behind each ear, so that all four horns pointed forward over its head. As John passed it, it turned its large dark eyes to look at him in turn. It looked bored, John decided. It had a forelock of dark hair that hung down between its big eyes, and as the animal sighed, the forelock lifted and dropped back down against its wide face.

Past the carts, Abas led them along what felt like a main high street, on a far more direct route to the Governing Buildings than they had been taken yesterday. Shops lined both sides, but there were also market stalls set up outside each shop. Children were running around happily while the adults shopped and talked. Everything had a relaxed and productive atmosphere. Everybody seemed caught up in their own trading, and only a few stopped to watch the group pass by; especially one young girl with deep dark brown eyes and long dark hair, who stood open mouthed as the group approached. John waved at her and she shut her mouth, giggled and ran away into the crowd. Amused and wondering what that had been about, John studied the stall around which she had disappeared, and as his group passed, he caught sight of the girl peering around an older woman. The girl ducked out of sight again, but she had been smiling.

"That is Kyra," Abas said quietly to John. "She is Tisirus' youngest. He told her those from Atlantis were visiting today."

John looked back round to see Kyra had reappeared around a stall behind them. John smiled at her and waved again. A big grin, which was missing one front tooth, was John's reward before she disappeared once more. John glanced at Tisirus at the back of the group and saw that he was watching the stall where Kyra was hiding with a soft smile. Then he was looking back round and the gruff guard had returned. John looked away before Tisirus noticed him watching.

The main street continued through Tjaru, gradually working up the slight rise towards the Governing Buildings. As the shops reduced in number, they walked past a large park, across which people sat out in the sun or under trees. The park led to roads now lined with homes, and from a junction of streets on a rise, they had a great view out across the width of the city. All the buildings were decorated in natural tones, browns, greys, and deep orange yellows, and throughout the many streets, bright green trees and small parks added colour along with beds of flowers. Where a taller building stood out across the city, it was painted white, with large panels of glass reflecting the sunlight. It seemed a wonderful place to live.

"What do you think of our city?" Abas asked, and John realised that he had been stood silently staring out across the city. He wondered if he had looked like Kyra had, stood mouth open in amazement.

"It's beautiful," John replied, feeling foolish for being so obviously swept away by Tjaru, but there was something so restful and beautiful about it.

Abas beamed, clearly proud of Tjaru and pleased at John's assessment. "And our Governing Buildings," he said gesturing ahead of them to get the group moving again. The road turned and the Governing Buildings came into view. Anticipation boiled up inside John, but he worked to control it and focus on Abas' tour, as he absently smoothed down the front of his jacket.

"The Governing Buildings have been rebuilt many times in the past, when on occasion the Wraith destroyed much of complex. However, for five generations now, most of the buildings have been left intact, and two generations ago, a major renovation project was undertaken to expand this outer area of the building complex," Abas continued as they walked up the wide path towards the entrance hall.

"There were formally two watchtowers stationed outside the older entrance, but they were dismantled. You many notice that the guards here have a slightly different uniform," Abas explained pointing to the four guards stood outside the entrance, each with their own little alcove to stand in, which provided shade and perhaps warmth in the winter. One of them frowned slightly at the attention. "The guards stationed in the Governing Buildings were originally tasked to solely protect the Athosian Leader, to place themselves between the Leader and the Wraith during a culling. However, the number of guards here have been reduced over the years, to lend more protection to the city as a whole." Abas was really into his tour guide thing now.

They had reached the impressive entrance hall, the doors opening automatically for them. John had removed his sunglasses just before entering, but the abrupt change in light level meant that it took a second or two for his vision to adjust to the darker interior of the entrance hall. He suspected that whoever had designed the entrance had angled the walls to create a darker initial space when people entered to put them at a disadvantage.

"It was also somewhat difficult for the guards," Abas continued, "considering it has been well documented that Athosian Leaders tend to be resistant to being hidden away during an attack. In fact there was one story-"

"I believe those from Atlantis do not need to hear all the historical stories just yet, Abas," Tisirus interrupted as he pushed forward into, nodding to a guard to one side who disappeared, likely to report that the visitors from Atlantis had arrived.

Abas fell silent, his lips pressed together, and John felt sorry for the guy. John gave him an understanding smile as they moved forward, following Tisirus into the main area of the entrance hall. It was wonderfully cool inside, and the sunlight glittering down from the skylights overhead held no proper heat to it, probably because of something in the glass.

As he did last time, John couldn't help but stare up at the wall murals above their heads. Directly ahead of them the first mural depicted a culling. There were Wraith darts swamping across the middle of the mural, their sweeping beams drawn down over groups of Athosians running for their lives towards the forest. Above it all, massive Wraith Hive ships were shown in outline with rows of the culled drawn inside. The sunlight from above didn't highlight this mural so well, and the angle of the light drew the eye away and onto the next mural. This one now had a wash of colour through it, as compared to the dark tones of the culling picture. This mural was full of warriors, fully armed, and among them, John could see the Elite identified by their tattoos. They were shown defeating the Wraith, pushing them back and above them ships were destroying darts and Hives. It was a proclamation of the Alliance's success over the Wraith and it was the first thing everyone saw when they entered. John would call it propaganda, but it was all true.

As he turned to study another mural on another wall, which showed strong faced contented Athosians rebuilding their settlements, he heard footsteps approaching and then behind him, he heard doors opening.

Torren strode in from the same doorway as yesterday, but this time he was smiling openly as he approached. He was dressed slightly more formally today, in a jacket of dark red and golden fabric panels secured across his front at an angle like the guard's uniforms. Behind him, the same assistant as yesterday followed, his expression far more closed than Torren's.

"Welcome again to Tjaru," Torren began as he approached. "It is good to greet you once more."

Woolsey returned Torren's formal nod, smiling in return. "Thank you for receiving us again, Torren."

"I am pleased that your people have chosen to continue our dialogue," Torren replied.

"My superiors have authorised me to speak on behalf of Atlantis, and we would be more than happy to continue our discussions from yesterday."

Torren smiled at that, clearly pleased to hear that Atlantis was keen on the whole trading idea, or at least talking about it.

"And it is good to see you again, Major Sheppard," Torren added and John returned the smile.

"It's good to be back again," John replied.

"I'm afraid that Colonel Sumner was unable to join us today, as Military Commander of Atlantis his duties are demanding," Woolsey said.

"Understandable. I am sure he serves your people best in those duties," Torren replied and John suspected he saw a touch of relief in Torren, or perhaps it was just part of his smile. "I am happy to receive any from Atlantis," Torren added, his gaze moving past John to the rest of the team. "It is good to see you again as well, Lieutenant Ford."

Ford nodded and replied politely that he was happy to be back, and then Woolsey introduced Lorne and Martins, who nodded politely back. Torren nodded to them both, as he had done yesterday, looking everybody directly in the eye and John bet he would be able to remember every name after today.

"You are all welcome. If you would like to walk with me to the tearoom again, we have some other guests that I will be happy to introduce you to," Torren invited, gesturing to the right to the corridor they had used yesterday.

Woolsey smiled and walked with Torren towards the corridor, just like yesterday, and John followed along behind. Lorne fell into step beside him as they headed down the simple elegantly decorated hallway.

"Seem nice enough people," Lorne uttered quietly for John's ears.

John nodded vaguely, but his attention was ahead of them, almost waiting for the dark colours of Elite clothing and the hilt of swords. He was aware that he was feeling a touch anxious again, but with anticipation this time, like he was young again and going on a first date. Annoyed at himself, he focused on the conversation between Woolsey and Torren.

"…indeed, we trade frequently with their people and I know that they hope soon to be included within the Alliance border," Torren was saying.

"Is that likely to happen any time soon?" Woolsey asked, clearly fishing for info on the military expansion.

"I am unsure exactly the range of the border currently, we receive regular updates from the Military Council and there are regular meetings within the High Council to bring new ambassadors and representatives from newly included worlds into the Alliance. I know that three new worlds were announced yesterday as now part of the Alliance, though it can take some time for the ambassadors to be established."

They had reached the open section of the corridor and again the gentle smell of tea and flowers filled the air. Lorne murmured with approval next to John as he took in the tea courtyard, but John's attention had immediately slid to the wall of glass that looked out over the fountain and the plantings around it. He could see several people sat inside the tearoom. As the corridor led them around the side of the courtyard, John tried to subtly crane his neck to see further into the room, but he saw no sign of Teyla inside. Disappointment flickered to life, but he focused on following Torren and Woolsey towards the closed doors that led into the tearoom. Two guards reached forward and grandly opened the doors for the group, and the scent of the brewed tea drifted out in the air.

Immediately John could see that his previous assessment had been right – Teyla wasn't in here.

The low central table from yesterday had been replaced with a slightly taller table, around which there were what looked like stuffed beanbags with pillows on top. Two women sat at one end of the table and a stocky man beside them. At the closed far doors, two guards stood silent and tall, and the same quiet female assistant from yesterday was stood to one side beside a table laden with plates and bowls of food.

As Torren led them inside, the three people at the table all stood and turned.

"May I present the delegation from Atlantis, led by Mr Woolsey and Major Sheppard," Torren introduced formally to the room, and John almost twitched at being included with Woolsey, but he just plastered on a good polite smile and nodded to the three people.

One woman stepped forward from the others and John knew immediately that she had to be Teyla's sister. She was slightly taller than Teyla, with slightly differing colouring, but there was too much of a resemblance for her to be anyone else.

"May I present my youngest daughter," Torren introduced her, but stood slightly aside so that she could stand directly in front of Woolsey and John.

"I am Zabetha Emmagan, second daughter of Tagan," Zabetha stated with a wide smile and she extended an elegantly bared arm towards Woolsey. "I understand this is how to greet new people in your culture?"

Woolsey smiled rather brightly as he took her hand and shook it gently. "We are honoured to meet you, Zabetha."

"And I am honoured to greet you in turn, Mr Woolsey," she replied as he released her hand.

She then turned her attention to John as she reached out her hand to him. John stepped forward to take it in his and he saw her gaze assess him more intently than she had with Woolsey.

"And Major Sheppard, I am especially honoured to greet you who have fought alongside the Elite. My sister has mentioned you," she said as John shook her hand. He couldn't help noticing that she had a good handshake; no wonder Woolsey had liked her.

"I'm honoured to meet you, Zabetha," John replied, following Woolsey's lead on the wording.

She smiled as she released his hand, her gaze still on him. She was a pretty woman, but John couldn't help but compare her to Teyla. Her eyes were a similar shape to Teyla's, and there was a hint of the same dimple in her cheek when she smiled, but she lacked the same ethereal natural beauty of her sister. Teyla had stronger features, a more golden quality to her skin, and darker eyes. Zabetha seemed more relaxed and approachable than Teyla, but then she was a politician. She wore a strongly patterned square-necked top, the sleeves split open at her elbows to bare her toned forearms. As John bowed slightly over their handshake he noticed that her skirt had slits in the sides and that some of her height was gained from the slightly high-heeled sandals she wore.

As Zabetha exchanged names and handshakes with Ford, Lorne, and Martins, John noticed that they were all smiling widely at her, all a little taken with her pretty smile. John tried not to smile at them and instead focused on Torren who gestured towards the other woman.

"May I present Ambassador Jalada of the Unified System of Scherla," Torren introduced her.

She was a tall narrow built woman, dressed in greens and browns, her long reddish brown hair tied down into long plaits hanging over her shoulders. She stepped forward and bowed to them, her neck angled to one side. Woolsey bowed in reply.

"Greetings to you who have travelled so far," Jalada said as she stood back up to her full height again, which was at eye level with John.

"We're pleased to meet you," Woolsey replied.

"And finally may I present," Torren stated indicating the man stood at the side of the table, "Ambassador Thadeu of Gawa." The ambassador wore a more relaxed style of clothing, a simple blue shirt over dark blue pants.

"Greetings," Thadeu said with a polite, but more relaxed smile.

"Greetings," Woolsey replied.

"Please sit and enjoy some tea," Torren suggested. "Today we have four varieties, please help yourself to what you wish, and there is food for you to enjoy."

He led the way to the table, as Thadeu sat back down on his beanbag chair, Jalada beside him, though she was watching the Atlantis group with interest.

Woolsey walked round to the other side of the table, taking the seat next to Torren's and across from Jalada. Lorne and Martins sat down next to him, leaving John to sit between Thadeu and Zabetha. He couldn't help but notice that all the seats were taken up, which meant that Teyla wouldn't be joining them it seemed. The disappointment grumbled back to life.

"It is good weather that greets you on your return visit to Tjaru," Jalada said to Woolsey.

"Yes, and it certainly compliments the beauty of the city," Woolsey smoothed in reply.

John had held back from sitting down, waiting politely for Zabetha to sit first, but also to give him time to assess the beanbag before he sat down. The last thing he needed to do was fall off it and knock himself out on the table, though it may be better than sitting making polite politician talk.

"The weather is particularly bright and warm this summer season," Zabetha said as she settled easily enough on her beanbag chair and John decided he better bite the bullet. He sat carefully, but surprisingly, the beanbag was sturdy and comfortable enough. It was actually stuffed like a pillow and not with beans, but it took some balance to sit on it. Across the table, he saw Ford was carefully shifting around on his beanbag, trying not to fall off as he worked out how to sit on it.

"Perfect weather for your upcoming wedding," Woolsey was saying to Zabetha who smiled.

"Yes, Rhakshar, my intended, and I felt it best to take advantage of the good season before the colder weather sets in."

"Good for the carnival as well," John added, feeling stable enough on his seat now.

Zabetha turned her smile on him. "Yes, it should be a wonderful day. I am curious," she asked as she drew several empty teacups towards her and began pouring out small amounts from two of the closest teapots. "Does your world, Earth I believe it is called, have six seasons as we do?"

"We have four," Woolsey replied as he sipped at some tea. "Spring, summer, autumn, and winter."

Zabetha set out the teacups gesturing John and Ford opposite him to taste them. "We have additional seasons of the deep cold and the rain season," Zabetha replied.

"Torren tells us that Earth is similar to most habitable worlds in our galaxy," Thadeu asked as he poured tea into his cup.

"Yes, in fact there are as many habitable worlds in our galaxy, the Milky Way, as in your galaxy," Woolsey replied.

John sniffed at one of the teas and took a tentative sip. It tasted sharp like lime and he immediately put it down. Zabetha lifted another one for him.

"This is of a more gentle flavour," she suggested quietly.

John smiled at her as he took it. "Thanks."

Woolsey was onto the very thrilling subject of populations across the Milky Way, but Zabetha seemed keen to start another conversation.

"I understand that Atlantis is a most impressive city," she said to John and Ford opposite.

"Oh, it's great," Ford replied.

"Those Ancestors knew how to build," John added, cringing inside at himself. Zabetha only smiled though.

"My sister has told me of the tall spires of the Ancestral City and that it is surrounded entirely by the ocean, just as in the old stories."

"Yes, it is," John replied as he sipped the new tea. This one was nicer, more spicy. "But, Tjaru is fantastic," John added, cringing again at himself. He was no good at this political small talk.

Zabetha smiled at his compliment of her city. "Tjaru has withstood many cullings, but still remains strong."

"Abas was telling us about the rebuilding of the Governing Buildings," John said, glancing back at Abas who stood close by, taking interest in the conversation. Tisirus has disappeared, likely still back in the entrance hall, but the two other guards stood just inside the door, silently staring off into nothing.

"The Governing Buildings have been of particular focus of the Wraith as you can understand, but over the generations they had begun not to inflict so much damage. The last expansion of the complex was to accommodate new offices and some new living quarters for staff members."

John nodded along with the rather boring information, making sure he looked interested and asking questions about how the complex was run.

"When was the last culling of your planet?" Ford asked.

"Less than a generation ago," Torren replied, having overheard the question. "My daughters were still very young, and yet in such a short time since," he paused with a smile directed at Zabetha before he continued, "our world has changed so much."

"The Alliance must have changed many worlds for the better," Woolsey offered.

"Indeed," Thadeu replied. "Before the Alliance, it was rare that any adult reached advanced years, but now, many reach grand ages and are allowed to pass to the Ancestors of natural reasons rather than at the hands of a Wraith."

Torren nodded along him.

"Though," Thadeu added. "There would be far less bureaucracy and meetings," he laughed at his point.

"If you had it your way, Thadeu," Jalada said, "we would do nothing but attend sporting events."

"I would prefer that life, Jalada," he replied.

"My friend," Torren said, "I suspect that you and I will be sat around meeting tables until we are Charin's grand age."

Thadeu shrugged good-naturedly.

"I understand that Charin will be here today?" Jalada asked.

"Yes. Satayi is travelling here with her also, but they have been delayed. They should be with us shortly. And my eldest daughter…" John's ears picked up with interest, "should visit us soon."

"I am not so sure, Father," Zabetha added. John looked round at her. "We heard, while you were greeting our latest guests, that Vako has joined Honoured Elite Emmagan in the bantos courtyard."

Who was Vako? It sounded like a guy's name.

"Oh," Torren replied with a frown. "That may delay her considerably. What time did they start sparring?"

"Not that long ago," Zabetha replied. John worked to appear casually interested and not to be hanging on each word.

Thadeu chuckled next to John. "Vako training with Honoured Elite Emmagan, he will be _sure_ to win in the championship now."

"You know well that many from various teams ask to spar with Honoured Elite Emmagan when she visits Tjaru," Jalada told him. "It does not assure victory for your favoured team."

"Vako is recognised as the most skilled competitor, and if he has asked to spar with Honoured Elite Emmagan now then his skills will only increase further," Thadeu replied happily. John hadn't expected to hear sports being discussed over a meeting table – that was the kind of politics he could take to.

"Bantos is a martial art?" John asked Thadeu.

Thadeu turned with clear delight at the subject. "Yes, using two short rods. It is originally an Athosian fighting art, but has spread to many other worlds."

"Athosians though remain the most skilled ," Zabetha added with a smile.

"Of course, for your children start learning in the womb," Thadeu joked. "I only came to the fighting style in my teen years, but I have had the honour of sparring with Honoured Elite Emmagan once or twice."

"And lasted all of ten breaths," Torren replied playfully. Clearly he and Thadeu were friends.

"It is only because I am Ambassador here for my people that I was even granted the chance for those ten breaths," Thadeu replied, mostly to John than to Torren. John couldn't quite imagine this relaxed man, though seemingly in shape but hardly Elite level, sparring with Teyla.

"My eldest daughter does enjoy quick easily won battles from time to time," Torren teased. "Though, clearly sparring with Vako will take much longer. It is unlikely that Honoured Elite Emmagan will have time afterwards to visit us."

Torren's gaze met John's, and John felt that Grandpa look directed at him again. Torren was quiet for a pause.

"I know that my eldest daughter had hoped to speak with you again Major Sheppard, it would be a shame for you to miss the opportunity. Abas," Torren called across the room, drawing the eager city guard over. "Would you escort Major Sheppard, and perhaps another of his group, to the bantos courtyard please."

John sensed the surprise from the ambassadors next to him, though they didn't say anything.

"Of course, Leader," Abas replied.

John glanced at Woolsey, who gave John a slight nod, even though John was already standing up from his seat. Ford stood up opposite him, elected without words to accompany John.

"I would be happy to speak with Honoured Elite Emmagan again," John said to Torren, realising he should say something proper, since saying 'Yes!' probably wouldn't be the right political response.

Smiling inside, but keeping his expression controlled, John moved away from the table, Ford following. Abas led them towards the far doorway, and the two guards there instantly pulled open the doors for them. Before he left the tearoom, John glanced back and met Lorne's gaze. The silent communication between them stated that John should be careful and that Lorne should watch over Woolsey.

The corridor outside the tearoom was decorated in the same natural tones John was getting used to here. As Abas led them away from the now closed tearoom doors, John noticed that one of the guards was following behind Ford, but at a polite distance. Ford met John's gaze and nodded subtly that he had noticed.

Abas led them through a series of corridors, and it became clear that they were now in the more active areas of the complex. There were a number of people moving along the corridors and most of them were carrying electronic pads and had the air of office workers. All of them smiled politely and nodded as they passed, and John guessed they were used to seeing outsiders around. Abas however seemed to have an eager bounce in his step.

"So, I take it bantos is a big deal here?" John tried as way of getting Abas going.

"Oh, yes, and the Athosian worlds championships are currently running. There will be a pause for the wedding though, and the finals should be held a few days afterwards," Abas replied.

"And this Vako is a big deal-?" John didn't even get the fishing question out before Abas jumped in.

"Oh, yes, he is exceptionally skilled. His father and mother were both champions themselves and it seems that their skill was passed very successfully to him. He was winning competitions from an infant they say."

"Really?" John asked, unable to keep all the doubt out of his voice.

"Yes. Ambassador Thadeu was exaggerating somewhat that our people learn bantos before our birth, but it is not long afterwards that we do start. Where on other worlds young children's first games are throwing and catching, Athosians learn our first bantos forms."

"Wow, that must mean you're all pretty good," John replied.

"Almost all Athosians are versed in the basics of the fighting art, being tested through our schooling years. As adults, bantos is the main form of exercising for most that is not involved with their trade. Those who are the most skilled at bantos are selected for teams, the best of those represent their settlement or city, and of those, the best are gathered into a team that represent their world within the Athosian worlds. It is those championships that are being held now."

"How often are the championships?" Ford asked from behind them.

"Every three yearly cycles, with the local competitions in the year before and then in the year after the championship the winning team invite teams from other worlds and systems across the Alliance to compete against them. It is a most enjoyable season this year. The skill level has been exceptionally high, but most expect Vako to be among the final competitors, as he normally is, and if he is training with Honoured Elite Emmagan…"

He sounded very excited as he led them towards a pair of large closed doors. The two guards stationed on either side stood tall and straight, but John thought he saw more interest from them than normal. Probably because Abas was talking about the bantos championship.

The guards opened the doors, and John could tell they had entered another new area of the complex.

"Very few ambassadors are allowed into this area of the complex, only those of the highest regard," Abas said quietly to John. "And there are very few who would even think to interrupt Elite when they are training." John got the point Abas was making, and it explained why the ambassadors back in the tearoom had been so surprised by Torren's idea for John to be taken to see Teyla. John felt a niggling feeling that Woolsey might be right, that Torren saw John as a link to the Elite and having some political clout with it.

"The bantos courtyard is where the Athosian Leaders and their family have traditionally trained and exercised, though Leader Torren and Zabetha do not use it very often. However, when Honoured Elite Emmagan stays in the complex, she trains there every day, and other Elite often join her."

"Are there any other Elite staying now?" John asked.

"They usually stay elsewhere in Tjaru, and I believe Honoured Elite Si is in the city currently, though he does not visit Honoured Elite Emmagan everyday, unlike Honoured Elite Halling when he is in Tjaru."

John wondered if people got bored of saying Elite's names that way all the time, but it was a good reminder to John that he must always refer to Teyla that way in front of others.

"I must admit," Abas said again in a hushed tone as he pulled open a door, "I am excited at the opportunity to glimpse Vako training with Honoured Elite Emmagan." There were no guards at this door and as Abas walked through it, John could immediately hear the clash of wood on wood.

Excitement coursed through him.

"I take it the Elite don't get involved in the bantos championships," John asked as he absently flattened down the front of his jacket one last time.

"No, Elite are not allowed to participate in such events, but they are known, such as with Honoured Elite Emmagan, to train with some of the team members, but they show no preference for any team or competitor."

The corridor ahead of them held the scent of fresh air to it, and as they headed down it towards the far open doorway John realised he could see sunlight not artificial light. The crack of wooden weapons against each other was rapid and sounded pretty aggressive, but then John had been on the receiving end of what he now remembered had been called bantos rods back on the Sythus. It had been on his first day in the company of the Elite and he had been lured into sparring with Si and somehow had survived with all his limbs intact. He had also won some respect from the big Elite warrior as well. However, the snap and crack of the bantos rods echoing down the corridor now sounded far faster than John had exchanged with Si.

They were halfway down the corridor when the snaps stopped, and the long pause of silence that followed was almost as loud as the noise had been. The clashing weapons started up again, the exchange furious and as the end of the corridor neared, John heard a male voice grunt in pain. The crack of weapons stopped, but now closer, John could hear movement, like boots moving across a soft surface.

"Many say that if Honoured Elite Emmagan had not joined the Elite, then she would easily have become the youngest bantos champion ever recorded," Abas said quietly, now more subdued and John recognised the respect of the Elite in Abas' expression. Or was there a touch of fear there too?

Another male grunt and the sweeping whistling sound of a weapon rushing through open air greeted John's arrival at the doorway, and he stepped through to see the bantos courtyard for the very first time.

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>TBC<p> 


	9. Bantos

**Note: **As promised for today, here is the next chapter. You've all been so patient in waiting for this point, and thank you for the lack of threats at my rather evil cliff-hanger yesterday :)

**Chapter 9 – Bantos**

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Vako shifted back, his weight balanced perfectly and in such a way to make her believe that his weight was on his back foot and unable to strike forward quickly. Teyla did not fall for that.

Smiling to herself, she circled round, forcing him to actually shift his weight back to keep enough distance between them. She struck a wide round strike at his head, testing his balance and making him see what she had done. Vako twisted and turned with precision and, with a warrior's timing, he stepped around her unmet strike to sweep up with a backhand attack towards her. Teyla leant away from the attack, turning and with both rods swinging, one high towards his chin and one low towards his middle.

Vako was one of the most skilled bantos fighters Teyla had ever fought with, and she had little doubt that he would be victorious in the current championships.

She had sparred with Vako many times over the years, starting from when they had been young and had met in school settlement competitions. In those days, bantos had been used not just for exercise, but also as defence against the Wraith. It would rarely make much difference to the end of a culling, but lives could be saved in settlements by those skilled enough to fight back and allow time for the weak and young to find hiding places. Vako had never been a warrior at heart though, despite having an open invitation from the Military to join their ranks. To him, bantos was an art, and his gifted ancestry of his Athosian champion parents had given him not only a strong body and quick reflexes, but his parents had imparted on him the detail of skill and respect in the bantos practicing forms. Teyla's own bantos forms were far less precise as Vako's, but then she was a warrior and had a slightly different approach in sparring because of that. Which was one reason why she always enjoyed sparring with Vako. Every time she stayed in Tjaru she would receive many requests for sparring time, and of those she could make time for, only one session for each, she always included Vako.

She knew that her adapted bantos style challenged his skill, but he also kept her own skills fresh and precise. Warfare can make a fighter limited in their skills, for in discovering certain attack styles that always work a warrior could be tempted not to train other styles or to ignore what they found challenging, and that would only invite eventual defeat. Sparring with Vako was to be tested in all the precision turns, twists, parries, close and far attacks, breaking through, bridge attacks, faints and varied height attacks. He was versed literally in every aspect of bantos fighting and he was exceptionally skilled at each one. When he sparred, he approached his opponent as a puzzle to be studied and tested for a way to break their attack, strength, and composure to lead to victory. Even now, she could see the calculation in his face. Many fighters showed little in their expressions when they fought, which was how all were taught, but Vako always showed a faint frown of focus; except when sparring with her, for he often looked curious and occasionally surprised. She knew that she tested his skills to the point of frustration sometimes, but he never grew angry, as some did when sparring with an Elite warrior. Vako rarely asked her questions about technique, for he learnt through sparring.

Circling one another now, she could see his faint frown deepen. She sensed a touch of frustration had begun. He had only managed to strike her twice, and they had both been glancing blows that she had missed only through focusing on testing him in turn, and she had retaliated for both. It was thrilling for Teyla to be challenged by someone other than a Wraith or fellow Elite. Elite sparred constantly together, and the holographic technology of the Generators meant that more powerful than normal opponents could be fought against. However, there was something always refreshing and inspiring about sparring with someone 'normal' and it still be challenging. It gave her such faith that her people were strong and that, despite her own level of skill, there was always more to learn. She knew that her opponents in Tjaru always learnt far more from her than she did from them, but if she only learnt one thing from each, especially being made to see a faint weakness in one of her attacks, then she had something to work on and improve herself through. Through that she became a better warrior and more able to protect her people and all within the Alliance and beyond.

Vako launched a fast series of attacks, and the crack of the bantos rods against each other was purposefully loud and challenging of her strength. This new approach of fast and violent attacks, twisting and skimming blows meant for her arms and knees, was intended to challenge her female strength against his strong male body. It was a foolish attack against her, for she spent her entire life fighting those stronger than her, and it was a sign that Vako was tiring to use this strategy. Or perhaps he sought his own level of power valued against her own, or perhaps he was trying to create space and a pause in the fighting as this style of attack might achieve against another opponent. However, he was fighting an Elite and she knew how to break this attack more than most.

She deflected his attacks, using her speed and light-footedness to dance around his attacks, letting him use up his strength. As she swept a twisted underarm attack at him, she held back the temptation to attack with a kick to his shin or to strike with the handle of the rod, and many other techniques she naturally wanted to use. She was restraining herself, limiting her techniques to accepted bantos style only, and because she was fighting an opponent whose bones she could easily break.

She saw him recognise the tiny opening in his attack that she had created, but it was too late for him to close it. Blocking one rod, Teyla stepped up and through his defence, bringing her rod down across his exposed right side. She reduced her power behind the blow, but the strike still rung against his ribs, even through the protective vest he wore. His breath was forced from him in a loud grunt and he pulled away quickly.

Teyla stepped back slightly, giving him a moment to regain his breath, and resisting her own Elite training that would have her striking forward for the kill against a real weakened opponent. The strike to his ribs would have been a near killing blow from her in normal circumstances. She had naturally turned the rod for a deep slice as she had struck him, used to having a bladed weapon in her hand. That strike with one of her swords would have cut in through flesh and bones. Vako however was a sparring partner only and his rueful expression as he rubbed his side meant that he had clearly understood the truth of that attack. She smiled at him, and stepped forward beginning another round.

In the bantos competitions if one was significantly injured, time was given to regain breath and to be checked by a healer, but smaller injuries had to be taken, for they were part of the course. In wearing the standard fighting vest to protect the ribs and collarbones, and the guards around forearms and thighs, most fighters were protected from major injury, but minor ones were almost expected. Vako had asked many times to train with her without him wearing the protective measures, and in those times had left the sparring space with many bruises, and once a broken arm, he had still been pleased with what he had learnt. However, with the championship currently running, Teyla had insisted that he wear the protective gear, for she would not want to be responsible for damaging Vako on the eve of his next victory. Her people would not thank her for it.

Teyla forced him to use his injured side now, making him dig into his reserves, for in his championship finals he would be challenged. He would spend all day fighting under the sun, so even without injury he would find it challenging. By pushing him further now, she was helping him and he knew that.

She heard him bite back a curse as she caught his elbow in a sharp tap and he pulled back quickly. She had broken through his defence again, and the human body's natural instinct to protect injury was now his weakness. She allowed him some space, but she circled him, not allowing him to rest properly.

Vako let out a heavy amused sigh. Sweat glistened over his forehead and his breathing was faster. The sun was very warm today, shining down on them through the open roof over the open sparring space. There was a covered sparring space on the other side of the pillars to her current left, but Teyla and Vako always sparred in the open aired area under the sun, unless it was the deep cold season or if the rain was torrential. The bantos courtyard had been perfectly designed, with the open roof to one side under which she and Vako sparred now, and a covered training space beside it. In the open sparring space, the floor was slightly lower allowing for the sand under their feet that provided a softer landing during sparring. In the covered area, mats could be set out across the floor, but they were stacked away most days, and besides even when they sparred under cover, Vako was of the mind that if he fell he should feel it.

The far wall under cover was lined with bantos rods of all sizes, weights, and in varying materials. Fighters had their own preferences of rods, but Teyla chose to vary which she used, making sure she could fight equally well with any weight or material. Though her swords had been made to fit her needs perfectly, she did not want to grow too used to using only them, so she used varying rods when sparring in the courtyard. Today, she had selected lighter rods to practice her skills, and they were of equal weight as that was standard in bantos sparring. Vako had brought his best rods with him, planning to use them in the finals and he nearly always used them when sparring with her. Teyla understood it was a sign of his respect, which she valued from him more than most.

She saw him draw his mind and body together again and he began a new attack, however this time he was employing short sharp parries, looking to test her responses. She met each easily, and, at one point, she allowed him to think that he had found a hole in her defence, but years of experience in sparring with her made him doubt it and he stepped back to circle again. She smiled at him, pleased with him at having seen her trap, and he smiled back shaking his head, clearly relieved he had not fallen for it. Of all those in the Athosian worlds outside of her family, it was with bantos sparring partners that she felt most at ease. They appreciated her for her real skills and they were used to her smiles and in talking with her. She did not think herself a teacher, but often found herself in the role. The sparring partners, having no more than one quarter of a day each with her in which to spar, took full advantage of the time and when they were too exhausted or bruised to continue, they asked questions. She would give them feedback on their weaknesses that she had identified and offer advice on how to improve. In them, she also saw how she might have lived her life had she made different choices. If she had not joined the Elite, she would have enjoyed participating in the teams and championships. She kept that always in mind when she received so many requests for sparring in Tjaru, knowing that had she lived her life differently, she would have deeply valued the chance to spar with an Elite.

On many other worlds, Elite were never approached for sparring, but within the Military, Elite were often 'asked' to spar, though it was often in a more challenging light than that. Satedans in particular had a tendency to challenge Elite warriors openly for sparring. That had been how she had first come to know Ronon Dex, now Lead Commander of the Satedan Fleet. He had been a newly ranked Specialist in the military when Teyla had first met him. She had been assigned to accompany two Satedan ships into an area of the border, as it had been at that time, near their home world. The Wraith had been continuously testing that line of the border, and the Satedans had believed that a Queen, perhaps two, had managed to nest themselves in somewhere close to the border, so Teyla had been assigned to be their Elite accompanier to help hunt the Queens.

Ronon had challenged Teyla on the first day she had been aboard, and she had already turned down several requests to spar. She had had to focus her time on reading reports and focusing her mind to seek the Queens, but Ronon had demanded openly in front of others that she fight him. It had been a friendly enough request for a Satedan, and she had liked the amused edge to his request. She had only fought a few Satedans before that day and had looked forward to it. Ronon had been a very challenging opponent and she had learnt a lot from him that day, but she had still won. It had taken time, but she had been victorious, and instead of anger from him, as Satedans could easily rush to, he had laughed. They had sparred everyday of that mission and their friendship had been forged in that Satedan training space.

In the end, she had found two Wraith Queens for the Satedans, one where they had predicted, but also one who had actually managed to set up a tiny base hidden on a moon circling the fourth planet in the Satedan's home solar system. It had been an embarrassing discovery for the noble Satedans, but during that mission, Teyla had won a new friend and some respect from the noble and impressive Satedans. She had worked with them several more times since, and her friendship with Ronon had served them both many times over. Ronon, rising quickly through the ranks had chosen to work with the Elite when other Satedan commanders would refuse. Halling and her, had also been welcomed by Ronon's family on Sateda, and it was there that Teyla had learnt, several years ago now, of Ronon's Elite lover – Iketani. Ronon's sister had already been suspicious of the beautiful warrior, but had assumed that Iketani' manner was how Elite warriors always were, until she had met Teyla and Halling. Teyla had immediately warned Ronon about her suspicions of Iketani, even though at that time Iketani had not shown her true traitorous colours. Ronon had taken her warning and had apparently confronted Iketani. Teyla was not sure of the details, but Ronon reported afterwards that he suspected Iketani had been trying to use him to influence the Satedan forces. His separation from Iketani had also allowed him to be free when he had soon after met Maru. Teyla smiled at the thought, calculating how much longer it would be until Maru gave birth to her and Ronon's first child. She would have to message Maru later.

Vako struck sharply and Teyla realised how easily her mind had been able to wander away. Vako was clearly tiring and, despite his skill level, she no longer had to concentrate as she had before. She twisted around his attack and struck him lightly across the shoulder. He grunted more from frustration than anything else and tried to sweep at her feet in response. She stepped away, striking high and then stepping back in towards Vako, seeing the small opening in his tiring defence. As she struck, she heard movement from across the bantos yard; footsteps of several people entering into the covered side. Vako had seen his weakness and tried to counteract, but Teyla simply went for a high strike towards his face and he jumped away. She followed with a series of light yet fast strikes, making him work hard, challenging his reserves that little bit more. He did well, and the sounds of footsteps moving through the yard did not distract him, but Vako was feeling the heat and needed water.

She pushed him a little more, making him turn. As she did, she saw the shape of several men in the darker area of the yard, but no detail, however it was clear that they were watching. She was used to that, for the guards were not as subtle as they thought when they watched the bantos fighters train with her. Vako was also used to attention, being a celebrated competitor, so they both ignored it now, but Teyla would use it shortly as means to give Vako a break.

She swept a low strike to make him jump or shift away, and he chose to jump, so she followed through with a sweep to his middle. He met it, landing in the sand softly, but his breathing was rapid. He blocked and deflected her next attacks, his stamina challenged. He was impressive still to the outward observer, still strong and fast, but she could see the signs of failure in his technique and strength. In bantos championships, the fighters had short breaks three times through the fight, but that did not happen when sparring with her unless she chose to give him a break. She kept up her attack, preventing him from pausing even for a moment, but she used large sweeping motions, telegraphing them to him clearly, letting him gain some breath in front of those watching.

He broke away, creating some distance and sent out a large strike to her shoulder. She turned, her back now to those watching, which put the sun in her face as Vako intended, but she dipped her body lower and struck with fast and spinning attacks, throwing Vako out of step. He miscalculated and nearly fell, but sent a wide strike to ward her off. She allowed him space this time, dropping into a guard position, the sun once again in her face, giving him the feeling of advantage. He regained his footing, and he took deep fast breaths as he assessed her. She saw his decision in his expression before he straightened.

"Honoured Elite, if I might have a short break," he requested.

Teyla straightened, and inclined her head, allowing him the choice in front of those watching, for he was a respected fighter to all Athosians, and it was also a respectful request to an Elite who clearly had the upper hand over him. She smiled as she transferred both her staves to one hand.

"Of course, Vako," she said politely.

Vako nodded his thanks, and Teyla could see beads of sweats rolling down the sides of his face. His attention shifted to those watching and Teyla finally turned to address them. Her father may have sent them, suggesting that perhaps John and others from Atlantis had arrived. She knew no guards, or anyone other than her family, would ever interrupt an Elite when sparring or training.

She stepped the short distance to the line of pillars that divided the open sunlit sparring area from the dark covered part of the yard. As she reached the pillars, one of the men moved forward to meet her. Now under the covered area, her vision adjusted to see him clearly.

Surprise and bursting pleasure made her pause at seeing John so suddenly before her, and she smiled widely at him, unthinking of those watching.

"Hey," he said in greeting, smiling at her in return.

She had forgotten how tall he stood, how dark his hair was, and how handsome his features truly were. His smile appeared honestly meant and, as before, she felt the strange reaction to reach out to touch him. She rarely felt so delighted to see someone who was not a member of her family.

She immediately noted those stood behind him, two guards and Lieutenant Ford, and the presence of Vako drinking heavily from a water bottle to her right. The eyes upon her now registered, she controlled her response.

"Major John Sheppard," she said as her formal greeting, making sure to include his first given name. "It is good to see that you are still alive."

"I've been looking where I walk," he replied, repeating his words from the last time they had met each other again, recalling for them both how it had been in falling down into a trap that he had ended up as her 'slave'. She was reminded sharply of how she had found him that time in the slaver's cage, looking grumpy, dishevelled and his uniform coated in dried mud. He was not dishevelled today for sure. His uniform was now black and very smartly presented, the dark tones complimenting his colouring.

Behind John's shoulder, she saw Lieutenant Ford move so he could see her better and he smiled at her.

"It is good to see that you are also well, Lieutenant Ford," she greeted him.

"And you, Ma'am," he replied.

The guard stood just behind John's other shoulder stepped forward formally.

"Honoured Elite, Leader Torren asked that I accompany Major Sheppard to visit you, otherwise we would not have interrupted your sparring," he said, concerned at having interrupted her and Vako, though she saw the guard, named Abas she now recalled, glance at Vako. Abas would enjoy being able to tell others that he had seen some sparring between her and the highly renowned and respected Vako.

"I feel I must thank you instead," Vako said good-naturedly to Abas as he stepped closer. "Honoured Elite Emmagan has bested me thoroughly."

John looked round at Vako, and Teyla realised that she should play the role of host in this situation, which was unusual for an Elite.

"Major Sheppard and Lieutenant Ford may I introduce Vako, one of the most skilled bantos fighters in the Alliance," she said and she saw a touch of surprise in Vako's tired expression as he nodded to them in greeting. "And Vako, these men are visitors from Atlantis."

Vako looked shocked for a moment before he schooled his expression and nodded more formally to John and Lieutenant Ford. "I am especially honoured to meet you."

John nodded in response, seeming slightly awkward with the nod.

"We're honoured to meet you too. Ambassador Thadeu was telling us that you're going to win the championship," John added and Teyla was pleased to know that the group from Atlantis had already met Thadeu and Jalada. Of all the ambassadors to Athos from within the Alliance, they were closest friends with Torren and the easiest to speak with. Torren respected their opinions, and along with Charin and Sitayi' opinions when they arrived later, he would gain honest feedback he wanted about those from Atlantis.

"If only I had such confidence that is to be the outcome," Vako replied to John.

"If you fight like that in the finals," John replied gesturing to the open sparring area where Teyla and Vako had been sparring, "you're sure to win."

"I hope the Ancestors will see it so, but then I will be fortunate enough to be competing against opponents far less skilled than Honoured Elite Emmagan, and so may have a chance of winning." he replied with a nod to Teyla.

"I am sure that you, and all the other competitors, will do very well," Teyla replied, falling back into the neutrality she had to show as an Elite and daughter of the Athosian Leader.

"Thank you, Honoured Elite. I will take my leave and thank you again for your time," Vako said clearly taking advantage of John and Lieutenant's Ford presence to call an end to their sparring. The championships to their current stage had tired him somewhat and she had pushed him particularly hard today.

"Do you have any questions from our session?" Teyla asked, not wishing him to feel hurried to leave, though she would prefer that he did, as she did all the eyes upon her and John.

"I believe the aches and bruises show me enough to work upon, thank you Honoured Elite," Vako replied with a deep bow.

Teyla inclined her head. "Then I look forward to watching your victory in the championship," she told him, breaching neutrality somewhat, and she saw him try to hide his smile as he turned away. He moved swiftly away through the yard, allowing her to turn her attention fully back to John.

"I was pleased to learn that your people chose to accept my father's invitation," she told him.

"It took them a while to decide to take up the offer," John replied with an edge to his expression that told her that he had been impatient himself for his people to visit her father. That especially pleased her.

"I am sure that through discussions with my father, Atlantis will be better prepared to meet with others from within the Alliance," she replied.

"Hopefully," John agreed, and a silence descended over them.

Teyla had official questions she wished to ask him, especially regarding his people's missions on worlds outside Alliance territory, for they may provide clues as to the negative force influencing populations beyond the advancing border. Now was not the time though, for though she had made it clear to her father that she was not going to play a politician's role, it was unavoidable now with the guards here and Lieutenant Ford's presence. The last time Teyla had been able to speak solely with John they had been able to talk more openly about their lives with each other, but even then, there are been others close by in the Daedalus' Infirmary.

Though she felt a strong connection with John, following their shared experiences in battle, she knew that they had actually spent very little time together, and that she did not really know him as a person. It was also the case that in all the previous occasions in which they had met, there had been some military or political issue to resolve together. Now, it was just them meeting in the bantos courtyard and nothing immediately in common on which to start a discussion other than the event of their meeting. She felt the distance between them in that moment as much as the common ground.

"I hope that Atlantis still stands strong?" She asked hoping that would be an acceptable start to a conversation, and polite and formal for other ears.

"We're all good. The usual trouble, but we're still kicking," he replied. She had the sense of him being eager to answer her questions. "And the Elite?" he asked.

"All is well among our number. We are currently very busy with the expansion of the border," she replied.

"Yeah," John replied with feeling, which meant that Atlantis was hearing of the advance. That caught her professional interest again and she decided to press for some information despite the guards' presence.

"Have those from Atlantis met that advance?" She asked. She had not heard any such reports in the Military Council, and the Elite were always party to less official information from the Military.

"Not directly," John replied. "But, we've…," he paused, seeking for the right words, "been caught between the advance and the Wraith a couple of times."

She felt there was more that he was not adding and she suspected she knew what it was.

"We have heard reports that on many worlds beyond the advancing border there is unrest," she asked quietly.

"You could say that," John replied with meaning in his voice and expression.

"I hope that none of your people have been hurt whilst caught in such events," she said honestly.

"Just a few scratches," John replied, but there had been a faint wince in his expression, and behind him Lieutenant Ford's expression confirmed that John himself had been personally injured. He stood before her strong and tall, so the injury was perhaps 'just a scratch' but she felt a new element of concern about the reports of unrest.

"Perhaps, if you have time and the consent of your people, you might share some details with the Elite. We have our own concerns over these reports and would value outsider observations," she asked carefully.

John nodded. "I'll see what I can do," he promised and there was warmth back in his smile.

Their polite small talk was almost used up. Teyla wished then that she had her father and sister's skills at talking socially with people. She was used to efficient communication with a clear purpose, and was herself inclined to silence and, as an Elite, people gave her that silence, following her lead on when to talk. She was not used to maintaining social conversation.

"So, that was bantos fighting huh?" John asked as he gestured to the open sparring space behind her.

"Yes," Teyla replied, willingly ready to discuss the subject with him. "It is the main fighting art of my people."

"Good to know the name of what Si beat me up with back on the Sythus," John joked.

Teyla grinned with the memory of that day, the first day she and John had spent with each other. Si had taken John to the Sythus' training room and she had found the two men sparring harshly, to end up grappling on the floor. John had clearly been out of his depth in sparring with Si, but he had kept on fighting.

"You fought admirably against Si that day," she told him. John smiled and she sensed he liked her approval.

"He could have snapped my legs off he had wanted to," John admitted.

"Yes," Teyla replied glancing away and then back to him. "But, he did not, and he learnt much of Earth's fighting techniques from you that day."

"He did, did he?" John asked, pretending offense.

"In battle one can learn the truth of a person, so or the Elite believe," she added.

John considered that with a sideways nod of his head, granting her the idea, but she could tell it was not a belief that he entirely agreed with, but then she did not either.

"I guess that would explain why Oneakka kind of accepted me after that battle on…what was the name of the planet that I landed the Hastos on?" He asked.

She lifted a teasing eyebrow up at him. "Landed?" She asked doubtfully.

"Yes, _landed_," John replied meaningfully.

She had forgotten how enjoyable his humorous way of speaking was, and how it was a form of discussion and interaction. She also could not miss the element of flirtation in it as well, but with him it was enjoyable and light enough for others hopefully to miss or put down to friendship.

"I suspect that your assistance in that battle and that you stood up to Oneakka played a part in his acceptance of you," she said, moving away from the subject of the Hastos, and not using the word 'crashed' at all, though it hung in the air unsaid, amusing them both.

"I'm just glad that I didn't have to fight Oneakka, I get the feeling that he wouldn't have been as…understanding as Si," John replied with an expression that predicted the pain he would feel.

Teyla considered that. "I am sure Oneakka would be happy to spar with you if you wished," she told him. The pained expression deepened. An idea formed in her mind. "Though if it is bantos that you would like to learn, perhaps it would be preferable to first spar against someone with more patience than Si showed you," she suggested.

She saw that John had understood her offer and he glanced past her to the sparring area, and back. There was a clear sparkle of curiosity in his gaze, which told her that he was truly interested in bantos, but she thought she also saw some trepidation.

"You going to beat me up like you did Vako?" He asked, his question a mix of cautious male and some of the flirtation again.

"I hardly beat him up, and you have seen me defeat Wraith far quicker and more decisively," she responded as she walked past him towards the racks lining the far wall.

She was pleased with this idea. She had enjoyed watching the match of skills between Si and John that time on the Sythus, but it had only been a short glimpse and, as she had said to John, Elite learnt a lot about others through battle.

She contemplated the racks of varying rods as John reached her side. "I would advise you start with this range of rods, test them and see which weight you prefer," she instructed him.

She moved along the racks and slid the lighter rods she had been using against Vako back into their place after wiping them down with one of the soft clothes that hung from the racks. John pulled out a few rods, turning them in his hand as he had seen her and Vako do while sparring. Teyla moved back towards him and selected new rods for herself. She would use a heavier weight against John, to work her arms some more and they would help her to slow her movements, assisting John to see the strikes approaching him.

"Not sure what I'm looking for in a bantos rod," John said offhandedly as he slid a rod back into the rack, but it looked like he had already selected another and was pulling out its companion.

"As long as they are not too heavy to tire your arms too quickly," Teyla replied and he gave her a look.

"I'm sure I can manage with a couple of sticks," he teased, but there was no insult behind it, he was flirting again, but also his male pride was now definitely involved.

"Good," she replied decisively and led the way back towards the open sparring area. The guards had pulled back, though she saw the eagerness in them to see the sparring about to start. Lieutenant Ford was grinning from where he leant against a pillar.

"You're gonna get your ass seriously kicked," Ford joked as John passed him, clearly amused at the prospect.

"Thank you, _Lieutenant_," John replied as he stepped out onto the sand and into the sunlight.

Teyla took up a position near the centre, rods in hand and waited for John to take his place opposite her. "We could spar inside if you wish, pull out the safety mats," she suggested with innocence that communicated her baiting teasing.

"You know on Earth, only kids play in sandpits," John replied as he stopped a metre away from her.

She smiled at the response. His black uniform stood out sharply in the sunlight and against the sand covering the sparring area beneath their boots.

"I would normally suggest that you wear a protective vest as well as arm and leg guards, as Vako was wearing, but since this is your first time sparring bantos I will take it gently with you," she told him honestly, but she kept her tone teasing in response to his statement about children playing in sand.

"Thanks," he replied, and Lieutenant Ford chuckled from where he watched, arms crossed, settled in to watch his superior spar.

Teyla lifted her rods and John copied her stance. It was clear he did not normally use weapons similar to the rods.

She began to circle around the open space and John moved to keep opposite her. She stepped forward and delivered a simple clear strike that he easily stopped, and she then circled back the other way. She struck with the other rod, and again made the strike nice and wide to give him time to block it.

"Aren't you going to teach me some basics?" John asked.

"I believe Si introduced you to them well enough during your sparring with him, but if you want to learn more of bantos there are forms to learn, but since you are not a child first learning in a sandpit," he smiled at that, "we will gauge your skill level first."

He was still nodding in agreement when she attacked properly for the first time. She kept it a simple double strike, keeping her movements slow, but he only just blocked them. She pulled back her rods from his and circled again, only to step in and deliver another set of double strikes high and low this time. He caught the higher one, but the lower one clipped him lightly on the leg. He pulled right back, but he smiled as he returned to the closer distance, his rods up ready. She repeated her and high and low combination attack from before, but on the other side. He blocked them both this time and smiled, pleased with himself. She followed immediately with another combination, which he missed blocking, but pulled quickly out of range so they missed him. She followed him though and he couldn't defend himself properly. She clipped him gently on his left shoulder, and then, when he managed to block her other strike, she stepped round it and rapped him on the back of his arm.

"Ow," he complained as he moved away, shaking out his arm.

She smiled at him. "We can stop if you wish," she suggested.

He frowned at her, his pride responding, though she suspected that it had nothing to do with the small audience watching. He had that same frown that Vako wore, in trying to work out why he had not seen how to block her strike in time. It didn't surprise her that he immediately stood ready again, and that he now seemed far more focused. She circled and this time he was the one to step forward as he tried his first attack. She deflected it easily, stepping forward into his defence space and again rapped him on the back of his arm in the same spot as before, making it clear to him where he was exposing his side. He pulled back, with no complaint though he winced. She struck back immediately, not giving him time to recover, and brought her other stave back round down towards the same place on his retreating arm. He turned though and managed to bring up his rod and protect his arm this time.

"Better," she told him honestly as they circled. She had not taught a complete novice at bantos before, but John was an able warrior so he already had good fighting skills, it was a matter of relearning how to use his body with the rods.

He acknowledged her compliment, but she knew from the shift of his eyes that he was going to attack again. It was a simple attack and one borne of a warrior not used to using two rods at once, and he used far too much forward momentum. She easily met his attack and spun around, helping him to keep moving past her, and she brought one of her rods round and down to hit him directly on his backside.

"Hey," he complained loudly over Lieutenant Ford's laughter.

She made sure not to smile too much as John turned back towards her, rubbing his backside.

"Do not throw your weight so far forward, it allows for one to step around behind your back," she instructed him.

John nodded, but he started to attack again. This was a more thought through set of strikes, and he brought the second rod in with more intention than before. He learnt quickly. However, that did not stop her from easily countering his moves. She twisted and dipped as she met his blows. She selected her moment, and struck at the outside of his same arm as before, then rose, twisted and smacked her rod across his backside again.

He jumped away, rubbing his backside again, and she worked not to laugh as Lieutenant Ford was doing again.

"That was better," she encouraged him.

John pulled a doubtful expression to that as they faced off again. She started the next round, this time not making her attack so clear to him. He caught several of the blows reasonably well on his rods, but he was not quick enough to see the next one and she struck up on his forearm as gently as she could, which caused him to lose his grip of one rod, and simultaneously she clipped him on one thigh with her other rod. She spin around quickly to see if she could strike at his back again, but this time he stepped quickly around, preventing her from the strike.

"Heyyyy," he warned as he turned with her, defence of his wounded backside predominant, but he was amused.

She chuckled as she stepped back to allow him to pick up his dropped rod.

"Again, much improved," she told him.

"Yeah, a painful butt will do that," he responded with a touch of hurt pride, but she suspected to also elicit some sympathy from her.

"It is a safe place to hit you, it teaches you about exposing your back, and it is a large enough target," she added.

John was unbuttoning his jacket, feeling the warmth of the sun overhead. She remembered the tightly worn black shirt she had seen him wear before and hoped that was what he wore beneath now.

Lieutenant Ford was laughing at her comment as John frowned at her.

"Are you saying I've got a big butt?" John asked as he roughly pulled off his jacket, exposing the tight black shirt. She had the feeling that he knew wearing less might interest her, but perhaps it was just her imagination.

"I am sure that it is all muscle," she reassured him with a smile, enjoying the playfulness. She thought he had a rather attractively shaped backside.

Lieutenant Ford muttered something as he laughed, but John threw his jacket at the Lieutenant to hold, right at his head, cutting off some of the laughter. John picked up his rods again and looked far more determined as he took his place opposite her once more. She made sure not to look at his tightly clothed shoulders and arms shifting with muscle as he moved.

They circled, and this time he was waiting, which was wise of him. She met his eyes and saw the playful sparkle in them, but also that he was paying more attention to what he was doing now. How he responded onwards would be far more interesting.

She started the next strike group. He met two of the strikes and danced away from the last one, keeping opposite her and protecting his nicely shaped backside. She said nothing of encouragement this time and simply struck again. Another rap across one hand and a shoulder did not slow him, for he stepped away and circled round to keep opposite her, though he made various complaining facial expressions at the painful light hits she had given him.

He struck towards her this time, but it was slower and he stepped away before she could follow through and retaliate. There was some calculation in his expression now and she saw his eyes follow her rods as she shifted her fighting position, stopping the circling. He halted opposite her. She lowered one rod into a side stance and then attacked from there, which he hadn't seen before. His rods met hers with a loud crack, and he twisted and struck forcefully back at her. She met it easily, and through the crack of the wood meeting wood, she felt the strength of him behind it.

She twisted, deflecting and making him see that she had a response to his use of physical power over her. He followed her, trying it again, but once more she blocked and twisted. Like most men, he thought that she would weaken in her defence against repeated full on physical power driven attacks. She dipped down and to the side, lifting one rod up across her middle and then round and down over his arm, before reaching round with the other rod and catching him on the backside again.

0000

His rump stinging with the hit, John stepped away quickly and spinning round to face her again, keeping her in sight and away from his backside. How did she move like that? She was so fast, moving like water, the rods flowing with her, up and around to strike with numbing light taps. What had started as a playful game had become something else, intriguing him and challenging his skills.

When he had first stepped out into the darker side of the courtyard and seen her and Vako sparring, he hadn't really noticed the detail of the fight. His eyes had been solely on Teyla. Unlike before, today she was dressed in a full body suit, in a deep blue with a faint pattern in a thin metallic thread spiralling across her. As she moved, the suit moved closely with her movements, like a second skin. He would have thought a body suit wouldn't be that comfortable to wear while sparring under the hot sun, but she looked comfortable enough. There was barely a bead of sweat on her forehead, unlike how Vako had looked. John had enjoyed watching her spar. She had been so impressive, and John hadn't seen any clue that Vako was anything to her but someone to beat up. When Vako had asked to stop and moved away, Teyla hadn't given him a further glance until he had talked. He was probably a sparring partner and nothing more.

Sparring with him though was clearly a more playful thing for her, but with his arms aching and his butt bruised, he tried to understand how she could move as she did, how her movements with the rods were so smooth and easy, while for him they felt awkward and slow.

She held his eyes as she circled him, but he was not going to attack first this time. Her hair, braided back from her face as usual, was pinned up at the back of her neck, showed the long sliding path of her black tattoos running down the left side of her neck. The suit's neckline was cut low enough to show just the start of the shadow between her breasts, into which her tattoos disappeared out of view. It was a sedate outfit, covering her almost completely, but it was still super sexy and he liked watching the sunlight glint off the metallic threads spiralling around her shapely side.

She shifted forward and swung both her rods towards him. Realising he had been distracted, he reacted more from instinct and intercepted the blows sloppily, but much faster than before. She slid past him, but he backed away, not allowing her around him again, and she smiled as she circled, making him move away and backwards across the sand. He gave her a knowing smile, knowing full well that she had been intending to smack him across the backside again, but he had learnt the lesson now.

He was decent enough in hand-to-hand fighting, but he had never thought to learn to use sticks. He knew there were some martial arts back on Earth that used sticks, but he had never taken much interest. Now, he wished he had.

She was waiting for him to attack, and the sun's heat from above was hot on the back of his neck. He struck out at her shoulder height and watched how she met the attack. He repeated the strike on the other side and she met it simply, perhaps understanding what he was doing. She struck at him and he tried to use the same angle as she had done in blocking his strikes. It didn't quite work, but she struck again and he tried again. This time he felt the difference, the way the impact of the hit didn't travel right into his bones, and her rod was deflected slightly along his.

"Good," she said with clear approval, which he liked. "Do you feel the difference?" She asked as she struck another simple hit and he tried the new technique again. "If you keep meeting strikes the way you were, you will tire very easily and damage your wrists and arms."

John nodded as she repeated the strikes for him to practice against.

"Now when you strike, do not fold out your wrist," she instructed and paused to demonstrate to him how he was striking. "Instead like this." She turned her arm. "See how I strike," she made a few practice strikes through the air. "Imagine that it is a sword, that it has a cutting edge," she added. "That is much better." John had immediately changed his grip, understanding her.

She sent some practice strikes towards him again and he met them carefully, working to hold the rods angled as she had shown him, and then he struck back at her in the way she had taught him. It immediately felt different.

"Keep you wrists strong and as an extension of your forearm. Do not grip the staves so tightly," she instructed as they traded simple back and forth strikes, him deflecting her hits on both sides, and then her deflecting his on both sides. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Ford copying the technique himself through the air, trying it out. John just bet the two guards were listening intently to an Elite teaching someone.

"Now remember those basics," she added and suddenly the previous faster attacks were back on the table. John just about managed to stop the strikes, forgetting what she had taught him and felt the difference in the vibrating ache in his hands at meeting her hits. She pulled back only to quickly attack again, and this time he tried to hold the rods properly and not turn out his wrists. It took a lot of focus and he felt like he was a cadet again, just starting to learn basic hand-to-hand.

"Good, good," Teyla said encouragingly, yet she kept up the attacks. John knew they were slow and basic for her, but they were challenging enough for him. That said, he was enjoying using the rods more now. Co-ordinating both arms and weapons, mostly equally, needed a lot of focus…he could understand why it was used by so many Athosians. As Teyla attacked, she was moving the rods around and across herself in flowing smooth almost circular actions. He could see that in doing so, she was constantly protecting her body from attack whilst only a flick of a wrist away from a strike.

Her hits sped up slightly and he focused intensely to keep the form of his arms right.

After another few strikes, Teyla finally stepped back and he broke out of his intense focus.

"Much improved," she told him. "You understand the difference from before?" She asked.

"Yeah," John replied honestly. He knew he hadn't been moving right, was a novice to say the least, but he had been getting it. He liked the challenge of it, and the flowing speed needed to use the rods. It was nice of her to teach him, because it must be the boring basics for her. He felt a touch of embarrassment at his lack of skill, but surprisingly it was only a touch, and the rest was appreciation.

"I'm not quite up to sparring with Oneakka yet though," he admitted with a smile.

Teyla grinned at his comment, the sunlight shining over her, her golden skin glowing. "I think you may need a little more instruction before that time."

John grinned at her, hoping she really meant the implied offer.

A soft feminine cough for attention drew his and Teyla's attention and they looked round to see an elderly lady stood near Ford between the pillars. She was dressed as an Athosian, in long flowing white layers, and she had a soft smile.

"Charin?" Teyla said with surprise, and what sounded like real pleasure in her voice. She moved quickly forward to meet the elderly lady at the pillars. "It is good to see you."

Charin smiled at Teyla. "It is good to see you always, Honoured Elite," she said formally, but John saw real affection in her expression.

Teyla reached the edge of the sand covered sparring area and set her staves down against the closest pillar, before reaching for Charin's shoulders. Charin's pale elderly hands rose to Teyla's shoulders in return and the two women touched their foreheads together.

"It has been too long, Honoured Elite," Charin said as she lifted her forehead. Teyla smiled up at her, a far more open smile than John had seen her give anyone else. Charin's eyes slid from Teyla to John, and he smiled to her as he approached. "I see that you have found yourself a student," Charin asked, with amusement in her soft voice.

Teyla turned slightly towards John. "Major Sheppard this is Charin, daughter of Emilia, she is the Athosian Representative on the High Council." John immediately stood a bit taller. Great, he meets his first member of the Alliance High Council and she had watched him having a bantos lesson that most Athosian three year olds probably already knew.

"Charin this is Major John Sheppard of Atlantis," Teyla finished the introduction as John reached her side.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Representative," John said politely, hoping he didn't look all creased and sweaty from the workout.

Charin looked quite old, but she stood tall, and had that same assessing look that Torren had; John wondered if she had taught it to him.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Major John Sheppard," Charin replied and she reached out an elderly hand to shake his hand as Zabetha had done.

John shook her hand carefully, but there was strength in her grip. He wondered if she had wanted to make that clear to him.

"I am honoured that your people have chosen to visit Athos," Charin said as their hands parted.

"We were honoured by Leader Torren's invitation," John replied as politician like as he could. Why hadn't he paid more attention in Woolsey's lecture?

Teyla turned to Charin. "Have you just arrived, Charin?"

"Yes, but I had heard that Torren was already with guests but that you were training, so I thought I would visit you first. I had not realised that you were sparring with those from Atlantis," Charin said, her eyes shifting back to John.

"Honoured Elite Emmagan was just showing me some bantos basics," John replied.

"Honoured Elite Si has sparred with John some time ago," Teyla told Charin and the older woman looked surprised and chuckled with understanding. "I thought I would show Major Sheppard a calmer approach to bantos sparring."

"It takes a brave man to spar with Honoured Elite Si," Charin said to John.

"I don't think I had all that much of a choice at the time," John replied and Charin chuckled softly again, her smile reaching her eyes this time.

"Will bantos training be a part of the Athosian trading with Atlantis?" Charin asked Teyla.

Teyla smiled. "It is unlikely, though Major Sheppard shows potential to do well with bantos," she said as she glanced at John. He wasn't sure if she was teasing him or not.

"It would indeed be wonderful if bantos were to spread to another galaxy," Charin considered. "But it does not surprise me that an Elite would choose to share fighting arts in trade with another people."

John suspected she was teasing Teyla, which was the first time John had seen anyone address an Elite with anything other than reverent respect. Teyla had mentioned Charin to him before and he remembered that Charin wasn't Teyla's actual grandmother, but had filled the role for her growing up.

"Elite have their own ways, Charin, you know that," Teyla teased in turn.

Charin touched her hands to Teyla's upper arms. "It is good to see you, Honoured Elite," she said. John had heard her almost say 'Teyla' before she corrected it to the proper title. John looked from Charin to Teyla, seeing the real affection and love between the two women. He hadn't seen Teyla's expression that way before, it brightened her face and softened her eyes.

"Are you keeping well, Charin?" Teyla asked, the softness shifting into concern.

"I am fine," Charin replied immediately. "There are many years to be granted to me yet by the Ancestors. And I am most interested to meet those who the Ancestors have chosen to live in their city." Charin said, her gaze returning to John. John got the impression that she was also distracting Teyla away from talking about her health.

John smiled in reply to Charin's comment to him, trying to think up a clever polite reply, but a strange sudden sense made him look away. It was the natural reaction to feeling someone watching him, and he had felt it shiver abruptly up the back of his neck. He snapped his head round to the right, to see the shine of eyes watching him from within the darkness of the pillars at the far end of the sparring area.

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>TBC<p> 


	10. Sitayi

**Note: **A shorter chapter tonight, but again I had to separate it to make what was formally one long chapter into two. The second one should be up in the next few days. I've got a busy week this week, with long work hours and a conference to go to tomorrow – oh the joy. Thank you for all the kind words regarding the last chapter when John and Teyla finally met up again. I'm glad most of you felt it was worth the wait – whew! I promise there will not be so long to wait for their next meet up

**Chapter 10 – Sitayi**

00000

At the far end of the sunlit sparring area, in the shadows beyond two pillars, a woman stood watching him. John met her eyes immediately, drawn to them by her staring attention. Her eyes were wide, as if she was shocked, but a split second after their gazes met, she blinked and a more assessing expression took its place.

John blinked too, the small burst of adrenaline dying quickly away now he knew there was no real threat, but he kept his eyes on the new woman who was still looking directly back at him.

She moved forward slightly, the sunlight reaching her between the pillars now. The light glinted off small pieces of metal hanging from her shoulders and belt. Small charms perhaps hung from small ribbons by the looks of it, with two more from her ears and another caught the light with a sparkle where it sat between her eyebrows. As she stepped forward, out onto the sand, he realised why her eyes had looked particularly strange, because they, like her skin, were purple in colour.

He had seen a few of her people before, some at the Alliance marketing station, and more notably Nalla, one of the Elite. Nalla who, with her unusual colouring, also had the ability to sense other's emotions. Remembering that, John felt a surge of worry, as he had done around Nalla. Was this new woman sensing how he was feeling? What if she had been sensing his feelings while he had been talking with Teyla and Charin? And when he had been sparring with Teyla? A wash of vulnerability met his concern and he tried to mentally, as he had done against Wraith Queens before, shut his mind somehow. Would that even work with emotions?

All this trampled through his thoughts as she walked towards him, and not towards the group, but directly towards him. Her eyes stayed locked on his gaze and he found he couldn't quite look away from her.

She was older than Nalla, perhaps in her sixties or something. Her clothes, from which the sparkling bits of metal hung, were in several layers, each in a different pattern. Her hair, a deeper purple than her skin, was tightly plaited around her head and pinned back behind a wide headband, from which the jewel hung that sat between her eyebrows. As she moved, the jewel encased in a silver clasp didn't move across her skin.

She smiled then, almost near him, and John realised he had been staring.

"Ambassador Sitayi," Teyla said at his side, also helping to break him out of his strange staring trance. He remembered Teyla had told him off for staring at Nalla the first time he had seen her. He blinked and glanced away, to see both Teyla and Charin smiling towards Sitayi. John looked back round at Sitayi as she reached them, but her eyes remained on him.

"Sitayi," Teyla continued, "may I presence Major John Sheppard of Atlantis."

Sitayi took a sharp breath with smiling surprise when Teyla said Atlantis. The smile widened and John smiled back immediately, reminding himself that he had to play politician and this new Sitayi was an ambassador.

"Ah, of the fabled new warriors in the City of the Ancestors," Sitayi said up at him, her voice deep and soft. "Greetings to you, Major John Sheppard."

"Pleased to meet you," John replied, trying desperately not to stare at her, a purple human. Her eyes weren't actually purple he noticed now she was stood so much closer - they were more violet, and where his own eyes were patches of brown through green, hers were red overall with blue patches. He was staring again.

Teyla was introducing Ford, and Sitayi looked away to him with another polite nod of greeting. John glanced at Ford, to see him shut his mouth quickly as he nodded to the ambassador politely, his eyes wide with shock. Unlike John, Ford hadn't seen any of her people before.

"Ma'am," Ford said politely enough to her.

"Greetings to you, Lieutenant Ford," Sitayi said in response, but her attention turned back to John with that same assessing look from before. It was almost as if she was as shocked to see him as he had been to see her. He gave her a faintly awkward smile, suddenly realising that she might be sensing how he was feeling right now about her. He felt the compulsion to move away, to start up some distracting conversation, but Charin was already speaking. He turned to her hopefully.

"Now you have drawn yourself indoors, Sitayi", Charin was saying. "Come, let us join Torren and the others. It is too warm to be stood out in the sun for so long."

John couldn't agree with her more, any excuse to step away from Sitayi politely for a bit, and the heat of the sun was getting really uncomfortable on his back. But, as they all moved into the covered area of the courtyard, breaking the strange little meeting, John realised that his time alone with Teyla was over. Just like that, quick and sudden, his little sparring lesson was over and the politicians had arrived. Though he had previously told himself he would be happy just to catch up with her for five minutes today, now his time was over he wanted more. And it hadn't even been real time alone at that. Disappointment flooded through him as he followed her towards the racks of bantos rods. He glanced over his shoulder to where Sitayi and Charin waited with the guards, Charin talking with Ford. Sitayi was watching John again, but she smiled and looked away to Ford. Had she just read him? Now knew everything he was feeling? How do you defend yourself against that?

Teyla handed him a soft cloth and he pulled his attention on what he was doing. She was wiping down her sparring rods and putting them back in the rack. He copied as he struggled to come up with something to say, think up some excuse to stay with her a few seconds longer.

"Thanks for the lesson," John said quietly, feeling as if Sitayi' eyes were staring into his back. He wished he could just stay sparring with Teyla, not now have to be dragged back into the boring political talking in the tearoom.

"You are welcome," Teyla replied with smile as she looked up at him. "You did very well."

He knew she was just being nice, but he still liked the compliment from her.

She set her second rod into its place in the rack. "Sitayi does not share the same abilities as Nalla, you need not be concerned," she said very softly for his ears only. Relief washed through him, to be quickly followed by embarrassment at having been so obvious about his discomfort.

"I'm just not used to this whole political thing," John explained quietly. "Give me a crash landing Hastos any day over sitting around making polite chit chat."

Teyla's smile became a small grin, her wide dark eyes sparkling and that dimple in her cheek just faintly appearing. "I know how you feel," she told him. "Neutrality among the Alliance is not the only reason why Elite do not involve ourselves in politics."

She had said it in that soft private voice again, as if they were sharing secrets and John felt another rush of disappointment at their time being over. He tried to think up some excuse why they should meet up again, maybe talking about the Elite and Atlantis…

"Teyla," Charin called in her strong, yet wavering voice. "You will join us for a short while?"

Teyla moved slightly so that she could see Charin. "I will of course walk with you to the tearoom, Charin, and introduce you to our other guests from Atlantis." The soft tone was gone, more formal now. John wished he had an excuse too to leave the tearoom, but he could hardly use her Elite excuse.

Teyla moved away from him, and he turned his attention to sliding his bantos rods back into the rack and not watch her so closely as she bent down to pick up a long sheathed knife that had been leant against the wall at the end of the racks. It was attached to a belt he realised, and she quickly wrapped it around herself, securing it with the weapon at her back, the hilt angled perfectly at her right hip for her to draw it quickly if needed. He hadn't seen her wearing so few weapons before and he instantly because suspicious, his gaze travelling down her nicely shaped legs to her boots. He remembered how many weapons Si had been able to hide in his clothing. The faintest bulge at her right calf was probably another knife, but cleverly hidden.

Charin said something else and John quickly looked away from Teyla, fortunately having been turned with his back to the others so hopefully they hadn't seen him staring at her. He laid the cloth back over a section of the rack, and reluctantly turned away. Ford was already holding out John's jacket for him. John tried to ignore the heavy feeling of annoyance as he moved towards the waiting party and pulled on his jacket. Teyla strode back towards the group, but her attention was focused on Charin. The elderly woman was reaching for her with a wide smile. It was clear that they hadn't seen each other for a while. Teyla smiled back as she reached Charin and the older woman set her hand on Teyla's arm. The guard by the open doorway turned and led them forward, out of the sparring space and back into the corridors of the Governing Buildings again.

John walked on automatic as he secured the buttons of his jacket and tugged on the hem in a vague attempt to rid it of yet more creases it had gained in Ford's care. It didn't really matter now though, he'd already met up with Teyla and now she was walking in front of him, Charin talking to her animatedly about something he couldn't catch. He was faintly relieved that the knife at her belt was angled backwards across her backside, or he knew he would have been looking. He looked quickly away from the long knife resting against one cheek of her behind, to find that Sitayi was walking along beside him. Her eyes had been forward, but sensing his attention she looked round and up at him, again with that interested assessing way of hers.

"I understand from Torren that a warrior from Atlantis fought alongside the Elite on two campaigns recently?" It was worded as a question, asking him if he was the warrior even though she didn't actually ask directly.

"That was me," John confirmed, glancing away to Teyla in front, and quickly away again.

"To survive among those warriors does you great justice," Sitayi replied, making it sound like a proper compliment.

"Well, on the second mission, there were a bunch, a team, of us working with the Elite, not just me," he clarified.

Sitayi nodded. "It is hopeful then that it is good beginning between the Alliance and Atlantis."

John smiled at that. "I hope so too." They were back in the office busier corridors of the complex now, moving at a pretty good speed, even though Charin was leaning some of her weight on Teyla's arm.

"It is said that your people come from another galaxy," Sitayi asked.

"Yes, we do," John replied

"Do you have an Ancestral City in your galaxy?"

"Actually, Atlantis used to be on Earth, a long time ago," John informed her.

She looked interested in that, but not very surprised.

Ford was talking with Abas behind them and John was sure he had heard the word 'bantos' in there, but he couldn't ask, he had to talk with Sitayi. He glanced at her to find her studying him again. He struggled to think of something to ask.

"And, your people…?" John began to ask, but stumbled over what to ask and not to ask about the purple skin issue.

She smiled at him. "I assume from both your and your Lieutenant's expressions, that there are none in your galaxy who look as my people do?"

"No," John replied relieved that he hadn't had to ask the question in the end, "not that we've met." She didn't seem insulted, in fact she seemed keen to talk about it.

"I am not surprised," she replied. "I come from a world first called Peldyr, that was lost long ago to a dying sun, but the Ancestors saved us and gave us another world, now the second world named Peldyr. We are a peaceful people and have been part of the Alliance from the second wave."

John was a little surprised at the peaceful part, since Nalla was an Elite, but was curious about the second wave comment.

"You seem surprised to learn that we are peaceful?" Sitayi asked and John tried not to cringe at the possible political mistake he had made there, but again Sitayi fortunately didn't take offence. "I assume then that you have met Honoured Elite Nalla?"

"Yes, I have had the honour to meet her," John replied, making sure to sound properly politician like this time.

Sitayi smiled brightly. "Honoured Elite Nalla is a uniquely gifted daughter of our world. We are a people who feel most deeply, and it is very unusual for our kind to involve ourselves in any form of violence. Honoured Elite Nalla is a powerful warrior, and all of our world respects her deeply for her sacrifice to use her abilities for warfare. I suspect that the bloodlines of our world will produce more warriors in the future, but for now, she is the only one." She had frowned at the mention of the future, but John didn't have a chance to ask her anything else because they had reached the tearoom.

Torren had moved across the room to meet Charin and Teyla, and his smile was as affectionate for the elderly lady as Teyla's had been. Introductions were made all over again for Charin and Sitayi, and John noticed how relaxed Woolsey looked as he stood up from his beanbag chair. He had a half emptied plate of food in front of him, as did Martins, and Lorne who was sat next to Ambassador Thadeu and looking like they had been in deep in discussion about something that was making them smile. John guessed it was about sports.

Torren then introduced Teyla separately, but she had already remembered Lorne and Martins, and they both smiled back at her. Woolsey shook her hand more formally, and John saw the wide surprise in his eyes, probably starting his own little crush on her. John felt a niggle of jealousy then, and he quickly looked away, knowing he was being stupid.

Sitayi was turning away at his side and she gestured to the tables of food across the room. He and Ford followed her invitation, collecting up plates and John picked nibbles at random in hopes they would taste good. From Martin's scoffing at the table, the food seemed good, and John was really feeling hungry now.

His plate full enough, he turned away to see that Teyla had remained in the room and was sat at the table with Charin on one side and Woolsey on the other. There were no more free seats as Ford had taken the last spot next to Ambassador Thadeu, probably wanting to get in on the sports talk with him and Lorne. However, a new table had materialised while he had been gone, now set up a little further down the room from the first one, with its own pots of tea and teacups. Sitayi was walking towards it and she glanced at him in invitation. He didn't have much choice, and squelching the niggling disappointment that his time with Teyla was truly over now, he followed the purple lady.

Sitayi had chosen the second seat along the closest side of the table, leaving him the first seat. He set down his plate and, with more confidence this time, sat on the beanbag chair next to her. As he settled comfortably enough, he looked at the other table again, to see Torren smile at him from the far end where he sat overseeing the other table. John smiled back, making out he was fine. Sitayi pulled two of the teacups towards them and John looked away from Torren to watch her pick up a teapot and begin to pour. He hoped it wasn't the lime like tea.

He thanked her as she set the small cup near his plate, which didn't smell like the lime one, and she began pouring a cup for herself. He turned his attention to his plate, and with a grumble from his stomach, he selected what looked like a spring roll and bit into it. It tasted good.

"Tell me about yourself, Major Sheppard," Sitayi asked.

John tried to think quickly as he chewed on his mouthful of spring roll. "I'm a pilot. I've been stationed in Atlantis since we first came to Pegasus, which is what we call your galaxy."

"A pilot," Sitayi considered. "What is it about flying ships that you enjoy?"

It wasn't a question he had expected. He met Sitayi' red blue eyes and considered his answer, trying think politically, but how could you about such a personal question. "I've always wanted to fly, I guess it's the speed and skill it takes I like," he told her honestly.

Sitayi inclined her head. "So you like excitement?"

John let out an amused breath. "Probably more when I was younger."

Sitayi smiled at that. "Is that not the case with all of us? Are you limited to only flying ships in your military? I would imagine that you are involved in more direct combat, judging by your sparring session with Honoured Elite Emmagan." So she had caught some of the sparring. He tried to think how Woolsey would answer her question, because he had said to always put a good spin on everything and not give too much away.

"We all have to have basic fighting training when we join the military, and in Atlantis we're all the same, whether you're a marine or pilot."

She seemed to like that answer and nodded as if he had said something meaningful.

"And are your people a warring race?" She asked.

"There are still some wars back on my home planet, but on the whole we're a people of peace," John answered, but worried then if he should have admitted to the wars on Earth.

"Yet, you are a military man," Sitayi asked.

"So I can protect people," John replied explained.

She nodded at that. "And are there Wraith in your galaxy?" Moving from subject to subject quickly, leaving John to catch up.

"No, but we've had our own share of dominating species that want to enslave everybody," John replied.

"You speak in the past, are these enemies vanquished?"

"Yes, it took a lot of work, but yes," John replied.

Sitayi nodded at that. "So, your people see the defeat of the Wraith as important, yes?"

"Yes," John replied immediately.

"That is good to hear," Sitayi replied as she looked away to her food.

John watched her pick up her teacup with one elegant purple hand. He noticed that her nails were as purple as her skin and over the thumb nails, small spirals had been painted on in white.

"And what do you think of the Alliance?" She asked as she set down her cup and picked up a utensil that was somewhere between a fork and a spoon.

"The Alliance has accomplished a lot, it's amazing that you've driven the Wraith back at all," he replied carefully, remembering that Woolsey had suggested saying something like that during his lecture last night.

Sitayi turned her strange coloured eyes fully on him again. "And what do you personally think?" She asked.

John glanced away, his eyes drawn to the full table only a small distance away. As usual, his eyes were drawn to Teyla first. It was a good thing that she was sitting and talking with Woolsey, because others had to get to know her. It couldn't just be John that she knew and talked with after all. The disappointment grumbled quietly again. He looked away from her to see that Torren was included in her conversation with Woolsey. Torren again glanced at John and he smiled as a host does, checking visitors were okay. John smiled back politely and Torren focused back on his conversation with Woolsey and Teyla.

John looked away, back to his plate and then back to Sitayi sat beside him alone at this table. However, Sitayi was looking past him towards Torren as he had been.

"He is a noble leader, and the Alliance is fortunate that he is among their number," she said softly, as if she was sharing inner thoughts with John. "The Athosians are a people strong in mind and body, yet also considerate of the emotions."

John nodded with interest as she talked, her attention gaze shifting from him to Torren and back.

"All worlds and peoples within the Alliance offer something special to the whole, and the Athosians," she said quietly, her voice flowing easily and John found himself listening intently. "They are one of several peoples who help to secure the whole together, like glue, binding worlds in the Alliance together through trade and friendship. That is as important as the Military's work, and Torren is particularly skilled in his role. I imagine that had Torren not survived the cullings of his world, that the Alliance would not be as strong as it is."

John frowned at her darker tone. He noticed the faint lines of age under her eyes and around her mouth. As she finished talking, John looked back at Torren himself. Torren's attention had shifted to Charin, who smiled and said something to Teyla. John looked back to Teyla smiling at Charin, and it was that soft affectionate smile again, not as open as before, but it was there. He glanced over to Zabetha, sat on the other side of the table from her sister. Both sisters were sitting in profile to him and John studied the similarities and differences and then on to their father beyond.

"They are a powerful family," Sitayi said softly next to him, her tone different now, drifting quietly to him as he watched Torren and those around him. "Perhaps even vital to all our survival, yet even the most powerful have their weaknesses, and in my experience one's weakness is often closely linked with one's strength." John frowned at her words, but he kept his eyes on the sisters. "Power can lead to many weaknesses. Most commonly those we hear of in stories of twisted intentions and misused power, and then its loss. However, there are other weak sides to power, and those are less spoken of in stories, for they are the quiet unspoken vulnerable weaknesses. Those secrets unspoken, hearts unshared, and dreams unreachable."

John watched Teyla touch Charin's arm and then move to stand up. She was leaving. He tensed. His time with Teyla had been so short and interrupted too early, and now she was leaving. As she stood, Woolsey and Martins did as well out of respect, Lorne quickly afterwards. John saw Torren's awareness of the act, though he remained seated. John realised belatedly that he had stood as well, his food forgotten. Sitayi' words had relaxed him into a strange mood, sat watching the others and listening to her, and when Teyla had stood he had just reacted. He focused his attention to listen to Teyla as she opened her full lips to speak to everyone.

"I will take my leave now, I have work that must not be ignored," she explained to the table. John missed some of what the ambassadors said to her, but she nodded to them in return as she stepped away from the table. As she did, her gaze slid from everyone else and finally met John's again, but she looked away again, to Woolsey stood next to her.

"Mr Woolsey, I am pleased that your people have accepted my father's invitation, but on matters of political trading I, as an Elite warrior, must remain neutral. Though, as I have discussed with Colonel Carter before, the Elite and the Military would value future cooperation in dealing with the Wraith."

"Thank you, Honoured Elite," Woolsey said politely and John could tell the bureaucrat was pleased.

Teyla glanced round at John, with a touch of more warmth in her gaze than before. She looked away almost immediately, back to Woolsey.

"I have already asked Major Sheppard if he would ask his superiors if there is any information that Atlantis would be willing to exchange with the Elite over the current situation with the Wraith beyond the Alliance border. If this would be something that would interest Atlantis then I will be staying in Tjaru until after my sister is married, and I would welcome any meetings that your people may wish."

She was staying in Tjaru.

"I and Major Sheppard will certainly talk with our superiors about the possibility, thank you," Woolsey replied clearly non-committal, but not closing the idea down.

"I had hoped to invite those from Atlantis to visit again, perhaps tomorrow," Torren added from his seat. "Perhaps that would give you the opportunity to report our superiors' response?"

John looked at Woolsey and saw nothing but the polite smile. "I hope that will be possible," Woolsey replied. "Though I am sure we would welcome the chance to visit again, and we hope to see you again tomorrow, Honoured Elite."

Teyla nodded formally to Woolsey and moved away around the end of the table, which brought her past John. She smiled at him as she did so, her smile not as open and bright as before when they had been in the bantos yard, but he understood the formality in front of everyone else.

"I hope to see you again soon, Major Sheppard. Perhaps I can introduce you to some more bantos fighting," she suggested, surprising him.

Pleased at the offer and the knowledge that she really did want to see him again, he smiled back. "I look forward to it, Honoured Elite," he replied politely.

She inclined her head as she continued past him. The scent of her lingered in the air around him and he worked to keep his gaze upwards and not glance down the back of her as she moved away. His caught himself looking downwards though, but stopped at the long knife at her back.

She rounded the tables, and strode swiftly towards the far door, in full Elite mode again. The guards opened the doors for her and she stepped out into the corridor. Just as she turned to head away, she glanced back and met John's eyes. He hadn't realised he had been waiting for her to look back until she did, and when her eyes met his, only for the tiniest of moments, he felt a flush of heat through his body.

Then she was gone from sight, and the doors were closing and the others were talking. John looked quickly away from the closed doors and sat back down, hoping he hadn't been too obvious, but glancing at the other table it looked like no one had noticed. Everyone was back into their conversations, so he turned back to his plate. He picked up the uneaten half of the spring roll and munched on it as he felt the strange combination of regret that she had gone and that they had had little time together, and the excitement that he might get to see her again tomorrow.

"There are many who say that in battle one learns the truth of another," Sitayi said next to him, and John almost jumped, having forgotten she was right next to him. He looked round at her and she leant slightly closer. "Do not believe them," she said in a soft voice meant for only him.

He wasn't sure exactly what she was saying, but he found himself looking straight into her alien eyes. She held his gaze and when he was about to ask for more detail she looked away and sat back. She picked up her teacup again and smiled normally again.

"Tell me then, Major Sheppard, of your home world. Have you lived there all your life, or do your people live on many worlds?"

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>TBC<p> 


	11. Prophesy

**Chapter 11 – Prophesy**

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For the second time, Torren watched those from another galaxy depart from the Governing Buildings. Heading out into the moonlit air of Tjaru, they followed Tisirus and Abas on the return trip back to the portal, and hopefully to return again tomorrow.

Today had been very successful. The afternoon had turned into evening with the fourth quarter and those from Atlantis had appeared relaxed enough, openly talking of their achievements and their experiences in their own galaxy. Torren had planned the day to be one of a more relaxed informal nature, and felt that it had been exactly that.

Charin had been particularly interesting in taking with Mr Woolsey, and by the gathering's end, they had even been participating in some philosophical debate. Torren had managed to remain relatively passive in the discussions around the table, leaving him able to observe as much as possible. What he had seen and learnt today had only further confirmed his original sense that these new people were pleasant, honourable, and intelligent people. He had already known they were effective warriors from the stories of their victories against the Wraith, but now he believed they were a people with strong morals, curiosity, respect, and humour. All qualities that encouraged him to establish trade with them. That they also lived in the City of the Ancestors surely meant that they were destined to be important. His instincts confirmed this belief more today than before, however he knew that working from instinct alone was no way to run his people's fortunes and future; which was one reason why he had wished the group from Atlantis to first meet Jalada, Thadeu, Charin, and Sitayi. These close friends and allies would honestly tell him what they thought of those from Atlantis. He trusted their opinions and guidance, and they would not be afraid to question him if they thought he was being foolish in trusting these new people in trade and friendship.

Eager for that advice, he turned quickly away from the entrance hall and strode back towards the tearoom. Hakon followed quietly, his shadow most days, but he did not interrupt as Torren reflected silently on his detailed observations from the day. Thadeu and Jalada had seemed eager enough to question and discuss matters with those from Atlantis, whereas Sitayi had remained separate for much of the afternoon, having sat at the other table with Major Sheppard. The others had allowed them that separate table, even Major Sheppard's own people. She had that way of her, Sitayi, and she had clearly found something of particular interest in Major Sheppard. She and Major Sheppard had talked for quite some time alone until eventually they had joined the main table when the late meal had been served. Sitayi had said little across the table as everyone had eaten and talked, and he suspected she had been doing as he had done earlier - observing rather than talking herself. He was especially eager for her feedback.

He reached the tearoom again to find that Sitayi had left, as had Zabetha, which meant that they were likely walking through the courtyards for some fresh night air.

Charin looked up as he entered, and he saw that her smile was far more natural now that the new guests had left. Jalada was still sat at the table, her attention focused on stacking up the tiles of a xaba game she had been playing, and Thadeu was pouring himself another large cup of kita juice.

Torren smiled as he sat back down in his seat. "Well, opinions?" He asked them all.

Jalada looked up from the xaba tiles. "They seem a most interesting people."

"Indeed, though they remind me of the Genii somewhat," Thadeu said, surprising Torren. "Polite smiles and yet they wear weapons," Thadeu clarified.

"That is hardly to be held against them," Jalada replied as she stacked up the last of the tiles. "They are in unknown territory, and they appeared relaxed enough to my eyes. Far more than _any_ Genii I have met," she added with a smile.

"Mmm, true, yet when can you ever know the true nature of a people?" Thadeu asked as he lifted his cup and drank some juice.

"You believe they are hiding their true nature?" Torren asked.

Thadeu licked his lips as he set down his cup. "We all hide our true natures when we first flirt with another," he joked, but Torren knew his point was serious.

Torren found him reflecting on the interaction he had seen between Teyla and Major Sheppard today. He had expected to see more of the affection he had suspected he had seen in his eldest daughter. After all she had shared her given name with Major Sheppard. However, from the moment she had arrived into the tearoom, Teyla had remained solely with Charin. Torren had seen no friendly glances towards Major Sheppard, except for when she had been rising from her seat to leave. Torren had watched her closely then, but as usual she had been very much in control of her emotions, reactions, and body language. She had been the professional Elite warrior that she was, and her offer to exchange military information between the Elite and Atlantis had seemed more as a display for the ambassadors than a personal desire to extend her time with Major Sheppard. She had though, on leaving the table, spoken with Major Sheppard more closely, but she had been looking away from Torren and he had been unable to see her face. She had made the invitation for him to return for training, which had been another surprise for Jalada and Thadeu, but again her voice had been carefully controlled. Which meant either that she felt nothing especially different than professional friendship towards Major Sheppard, or she had been in particularly strict control of herself. She had still made his importance clear, electing him as the contact between Atlantis and the Elite, despite her arguments to Torren last night that she would not engage in politics of any kind.

Major Sheppard had not been able to hide his own interest in Teyla. He had looked frequently at her with little glances, then quickly looking away as if he had been nervous as being caught doing so. Torren was used to men admiring both his daughters, but he had been so curious to see if Teyla returned Major Sheppard's interest. Or possibly, he was being influenced by his own wish to see her find someone to share her heart with, for he knew how it was to live a life without love. At least he had shared a great love, to lose it to the Wraith yes, but he had experienced it and had known himself loved. Teyla, from his knowledge, had spared little time for love, if at all.

It was always on his mind that Teyla's life was an exceedingly dangerous one, and one that probability predicted to be short. He had to trust that she would remain as strong and skilled, and always a step ahead of the Wraith. One of his greatest fears in life was that he would lose her to the Wraith and that she would not have lived a happy life for herself. She was an Elite right through to her soul, and he knew that she would be so until her last breath. He respected and valued that choice, but he so often wished things might be different.

However, of late, Teyla had seemed to be altering slightly. With her new Military Council duties, she had been able to stay in Tjaru more frequently, and due to her recent injury she had remained home far longer than ever before. He longed for her to be happy in her life, not just successful in her work and having confidence in her skills. He wished her to be able to enjoy the closeness of the family, and to be able to sit in complete relaxation without a weapon near her hand.

He was not as worried for Zabetha, for in her impending marriage with Rhakshar she had found someone with which she could share her inner thoughts and feelings. She had been very much by herself growing up, at least after Teyla had left to train with the Elite. He had tried to spend as much time as he could with Zabetha as she had grown, and perhaps that was why she had so closely and expertly followed in his footsteps, for so many hours of her life had been spent sat with him in meetings. He had been loathed to leave her with minders, even when she had been very young, and most of the regular visitors and ambassadors to the Governing Buildings had grown used to her presence from quite early on.

He had detected the interest between her and Rhakshar from the first moment they had met each other, which had been some time before she and Torren had discussed her entering into a political marriage. It had pleased him greatly that she had chosen Rhakshar's offer very quickly. Though the two had not known each other very well when they had first begun to meet to discuss the marriage contract, Torren had been delighted to see the natural affection grow into so much more. Rhakshar was a good man and he would be a wonderful husband to her, and willing to allow her to be the leader she was at heart. Torren was also pleased for himself in that respect, for it meant that his youngest daughter and her husband would spend most of their time in Tjaru. If only Teyla would remain here always too….

He realised his mind had wandered and that, though listening, he was not participating in the current discussion.

"They are able warriors if they have assisted the Elite," Jalada was saying.

"Twice now," Torren pointed out.

"Yes, and that says much for them," Jalada said. She clearly seemed in favour of Atlantis.

"What can they offer though?" Thadeu asked. "What is it that you hope to gain with talking with them?" He asked Torren directly.

"Trade of any sort," Torren replied carefully. He had not shared with them before now that he was looking to set up trade with Atlantis.

Jalada looked sharply at him from the xaba game. "Trade?"

Torren nodded. "Athos trades with many peoples outside the border," he reminded them.

Jalada sat back from her game and frowned. "What do they have to offer Athos?"

"I am not sure precisely yet, but there is always something to trade. How can there not be?" Torren asked. "They are from another galaxy. Think of the variety of goods and skills, exchange of culture and knowledge we could share."

"There must be something that you are particularly after?" Thadeu asked with narrowed eyes.

Torren smiled at his friend. "Trade is always about things that are wanted," Torren replied. "On both sides."

Thadeu set his chin on his fist and regarded him closely. "As I see it, Atlantis would have far more to gain than Athos in this trading. Unless it is alliance with them that you think will benefit your people."

"Of course," Torren replied. "Becoming allies with a people from another galaxy, and who live in the City of the Ancestors – of course I would want that."

Thadeu shook his head with amusement. "You Athosians and your love of the Ancestors."

Jalada was not smiling though; she was watching Torren closely. "I see the benefit of all you say, and I have heard the rumours of their viral technology and knowledge of the Ancestral history. The Elite clearly see their military might as worthy of respect, and I saw men of strong military backs here today. To ally with Atlantis, at the back of the Wraith as the Alliance strikes the front – the benefit is great for the Elite." She glanced round at Thadeu.

Thadeu nodded at that. "True, but they are one people, in one city on one world. Is it worth risking the wrath of the High Council?"

Torren had worried over that very thought many times, especially when lying awake at night.

"The High Council is undecided about Atlantis," he said with a glance at Charin. "It would do the Alliance no good to be at war with a people who could help fight against the Wraith. Why would they?" The question was directed more towards Charin.

Charin had been sat reclined on a new large chair someone had drawn forward for her. One of her elbows was propped on an armrest and her chin against her thin fingers. Her eyes and mind were still very sharp despite her frail body.

"The High Council rarely thinks to speak of Atlantis," she replied. "The establishment of the Military Council has in many ways greatly relieved the High Council of some considerations, despite their initial fears. They may still fear the Military's might, but now the High Council is separate from the political risk in the expansion. The Council may discuss Atlantis from time to time, but it is usually only in quiet gossip discussed between sessions. Atlantis is not currently an issue for the High Council, let the Military Council deal with the strangers," she concluded as if quoting someone.

"Then it may not be wise to bring Atlantis to their attention," Thadeu suggested. "Why make them an issue."

"I do not seek to make Atlantis an issue," Torren replied, "only to bring understanding and knowledge between Atlantis and the Alliance, to further bind this galaxy together. Whether they came from other stars is not important, they live among our own now and they are enemies to the Wraith," Torren explained. "And I have heard talk from trading partners beyond the border. Atlantis may not currently be important to the High Council, but to the many worlds still under the threat of the Wraith, those from Atlantis have come to their aid."

Thadeu and Jalada took that in with interest.

"And Mr Woolsey himself spoke to me of violence seen on unprotected worlds. If this galaxy is to be freed by the might of the Alliance, it will not do to alienate worlds in our own stars," Torren warned.

"So, if these unprotected worlds trust Atlantis, and we are known to be friends to Atlantis, you believe it will help the Alliance advance?" Jalada asked.

Torren shrugged. "I am unsure that we would have such an overwhelming influence as that. You both know that it is the Athosian way to create ties with trade. Already I have shared with you knowledge gained from my friends outside the border. If the same can be established with Atlantis… Already the Elite see the benefit of this, you heard Honoured Elite Emmagan discuss that every point with Major Sheppard and Mr Woolsey. If Atlantis can help unify this galaxy, in even a small way, is that not for the benefit of us all?"

Jalada inclined her head. "I see the wisdom in your words, and I suspect that the rest of my own people would agree with you. How can there be too many friendships, as long as they were well intentioned and honoured?"

Torren smiled, pleased that she approved. He looked to Thadeu. "Speak freely, friend," he suggested, even though they were speaking politics and not bantos.

Thadeu looked up from his cup. "In principle I agree, but it must be handled carefully, Torren."

Torren nodded. "You fear retaliation against me?"

Thadeu considered his response. "I only want your new friendship be an honourable one; I would not see you harmed by those we do not know."

Torren had expected him to speak of the High Council's response, but Thadeu's concern was that Atlantis could be the source of a possible threat to Athos.

Torren considered all he had learnt of those from Atlantis so far. "I understand, but in simple trading, there is little influence they can have within the Alliance."

"You trust these people so easily?" Thadeu asked.

Torren was aware of Charin's close attention to his response to the question. "I trust the Elite and my eldest daughter, for it was Honoured Elite Emmagan whom I gave the decision as to whether my invitation for trade should be passed to Atlantis. If Honoured Elite Emmagan did not see them worthy, she would not have done so."

Thadeu's expression changed, and he immediately seemed more accepting. "I suppose that it is only that I do not know their true nature that concerns me, and since you have invited them here again tomorrow, there will be more opportunities to discover it."

Torren nodded, pleased that Thadeu had given approval as such.

"Then tomorrow will be full of new opportunity and in need of a fresh clear mind, so I will bid good sleep to you," Jalada said as she rose from her seat.

"I will retire as well then," Thadeu said, standing as well. "I hope to catch some of the championship early tomorrow."

"Good night," Torren said to them both, smiling for he knew they were both giving him time alone to talk with Charin.

They moved away to the door. As they were both permanent ambassadors to Athos, they both had homes in Tjaru in which to stay, not too far from the Governing Buildings. Thadeu's had a large space for sparring and Torren knew that Tjaru's bantos team met there for strategy meetings. Thadeu loved bantos, but not just from a distance, he involved himself in the local team and he established placements in training schools for select students from his own world. Torren did not doubt that Thadeu would be up early tomorrow, probably swinging his bantos rods around in his own private sparring space, as his tolerant wife Majola looked on.

The doors closed behind the ambassadors and Torren turned to Charin. He immediately felt more at ease sat alone with her.

"Speak your mind, Charin," he said softly with a smile.

She smiled back and he heard soft laughter in her out breath. "Torren, I suspect that because of this, you will try to persuade me out of retiring from the High Council."

Typically for her, she had struck straight to the matter that he had predicted would be discussed, but had also hoped would not.

"I would never ask you to do something against your best judgement. I value _you_ more than any political position," he told her honestly. "I had already suspected you would wish to call this Council session your last."

Charin shifted in her seat and he worried that she was uncomfortable, but she simply adjusted herself against the cushions behind her and settled back again. Torren was pleased that someone had made sure she had enough cushions.

"I think perhaps, if your plan is to succeed, that I could return to the Council to announce my retirement and still have time, in the many leaving meals I will have to sit through, to speak positively concerning Atlantis."

"Then you do approve of them?" Torren asked. Her many years on the High Council meant that she too had strong control of her emotions, only allowing what she chose to show. He still found it difficult to read her mood sometimes.

"I believe, as you do, that they are here for a reason, that the Ancestors _must_ have chosen them to find and guard their ancient city," she replied.

Torren glanced away to where Sitayi had sat with Major Sheppard earlier. "And what does Sitayi think?"

Charin shrugged slightly. Her shoulders looked narrower than before. "I do not know, her mind is her own, and I have not had a chance to speak with her yet. I believe she and Zabetha are walking through the courtyards."

Torren nodded. He could see that Charin was tiring. She should retire to bed, and he was keeping her up when she would be resting.

"I have kept you from your rest long enough," Torren told her as he stood. "I will seek them out and ask their opinions." That way Charin was not left to stay answering his questions as she saw as her duty, he would instead leave her to retire in her own time.

Charin smiled knowingly up at him. "It has been a long day for an old woman like me. I find travelling so much in one day far more work than it used to be."

Torren leant down and touched his forehead gently to hers.

"May the Ancestors watch over you in your dreaming," she said to him, as she had so many times, and he now said to his daughters in turn.

"And may they watch over you," he replied, his love for her mixing with concern for her aging health.

"Go, now, Torren, do not fuss over me," she told him with a swipe at his hand, having seen him hesitate to leave her. "Hakon will make sure that I make it to my room." There was a heavy amount of sarcasm in her voice.

Torren nodded to her with a smile. "I will see you at early meal, if you feel up to it."

"I will be there, eager to share a meal with you and both your daughters," Charin replied.

Torren smiled and stepped away. Hakon was sat across the room, more relaxed himself now everyone else had gone.

"I will see Charin to her room safely," he assured Torren. "The guards' reports say that Zabetha has retired to sleep, but Ambassador Sitayi is still in the courtyards."

"She hates to be shut within walls all day," Charin said from her chair. She and Sitayi had been good friends for many years now, both the women sharing similar wisdom and sense of humour.

Hakon was tapping on his pad, linking in with the latest update from the guards. "Apparently she is sitting in the bantos courtyard," he reported.

"The bantos courtyard?" Torren repeated with a frown. Sitayi was free to roam where she liked in the complex, other than in the family area. Zabetha must have left her there to remain in the moonlight, but it was a strange choice.

"Goodnight, Charin," Torren said once more as he left the tearoom. "And Hakon, once you see Charin to her room, make sure you finish your day as well. It is getting late and tomorrow will be another busy day."

Hakon nodded from where he was walking over to Charin, the smile already on his face. It was good that Hakon had time alone with Charin, for she had been a part of his life in the Governing Buildings and was almost family to him as well.

Torren made his way through the corridors away from the tearoom, and on questioning a guard, it was confirmed that Sitayi was still in the bantos courtyard. He wondered what it was about that space that she was enjoying, for he seriously doubted she had any interest in sparring. Her people were very peaceful, and shunned even the most simple of martial arts. Though, that had changed slightly when Honoured Elite Nalla had become well known.

He reached the bantos courtyard to find it silent, the only guard there stood at the very far door, relaxed and far enough away that Torren did not mind the extra presence.

Sitayi was stood leant against one of the pillars, the moonlight glimmering in from the open space in the roof to glow down over her. The moonlight sparkled against the small metallic pieces hanging from her clothing, the only shifting movement in the entire courtyard. He approached quietly, his hands behind his back, enjoying the full silence of the yard himself. The air was that of summer, warm enough, but with a faint promise of the approaching chill of the depth of night.

A faint movement of her head told Torren that she knew he was there, but it was clear that she was deep in thought. Curious and pleased, he reached her side and paused. She remained still for a moment longer and then looked up at him with a faint smile.

"Leader Torren," she greeted him, but the formality was more of affection.

"Sitayi, I am sorry that I did not greet you personally earlier," he replied.

"You were busy with far more intriguing guests," she replied and he smiled.

"What did you think of them?" He asked.

Sitayi took a breath. "They are interesting, different yet the same, very much like people from any number of worlds."

Torren nodded, but waited for any more she would give him. Sitayi always chose carefully what she said, and what she shared was significant. She had been ambassador to Athos for many yearly cycles, and already a trusted friend of Charin and close to Zabetha, when he had learnt of her abilities. Her people possessed deep feelings and gifts of insight borne from their innate sensitivity, however some possessed stronger gifts than others, such as Honoured Elite Nalla. Sitayi' abilities were different, but no less impressive. She was a seer.

Over the years, she had described to him the nature of what it was to be a seer, and it sounded as much a burden and source of frustration as it was a gift. She saw only experiences that she herself would experience, as if the echoes of her own future were reflecting back to her in the present. However, all of those future experiences arrived all at once in a barrage of overlaying images and feelings. Interpreting all of that simultaneous information was as much an art as it was a developed skill, and Sitayi was an expert at what she did.

When she had first told him of her gift many years ago, she had predicted that Teyla would become one of the most skilled Elite warriors, and that she would wield great power in the future shape of the Alliance. That prediction had already been proven correct for Teyla was one of the most famous Elite within the Alliance and was now a member of the Military Council. Though Sitayi had rarely made such specific predictions for him since, she had still chosen to share insights and offer advice over the years. He was not sure why she had chosen to offer him some of the insight her gift allowed her, but the one time he had asked her why, she had simply replied that she was the ambassador to Athos for a reason. Torren had taken her explanation as the gift he felt her presence was and had not questioned her about it again. He accepted any advice offered to him, from any and all sources, but ultimately he always made his own decisions. Though, admittedly, he valued her insight above most others', and this evening he especially needed to hear whatever she wished to share.

"Did you see their arrival before now?" He asked her directly. She preferred for him to direct these conversations by asking specific questions for which he needed insight, leaving her to decide on how to best answer him.

"No," she replied simply. "Not so clearly. I have sensed the importance of Atlantis, who would not?" she smiled at him. She pushed away from the pillar and stepped onto the sand covered ground of the open sparring space. "You understand that my gift is rarely so specific."

She moved through the moonlight, looking deeply thoughtful.

"What have you seen?" He asked, sensing that she was pondering her visions.

She walked carefully across the sand at a slow moving pace as her mind worked at a far faster one. Torren remained between the pillars, watching her moving through the bright moonlight.

"As I have spoken of before," she replied absently. "The same darkness, Torren," she added softly. "The growing darkness within the Alliance, threatening to burst it apart. Shattering us all apart."

She stopped half way across the sand and turned back to face him.

"The breaking lines seem only clearer now than before," she said with the air of a conclusion.

Torren frowned. She had spoken of this before, and each time seemed more concerned and agitated. The potential weakening of the Alliance concerned him as well. He knew that something about the High Council in particular now concerned Teyla, though she had not shared any details. In his own dealings with the High Council, he had found them growing less focused and more petty.

"What can we do?" He asked Sitayi.

"Keep the shards of the breaking vase together, that is the key," Sitayi replied with more force now, less lost in concern. "Keep the Alliance bound together as much as is possible."

"A strategy that I already agree with and employ," Torren replied.

"It will be even more important," Sitayi stressed as she stood facing him, the sand around her feet sparkling in the moonlight. "Glue the pieces together as much as we can, hold the vase together even as it breaks apart."

Torren frowned at her. "And Atlantis, is it a shard of the vase?" He asked her.

She glanced aside, focusing inward. "In a manner, I believe," she replied.

"Then you agree with my plans to trade with them?"

She looked back up to him, her eyes wide. "Yes, Torren. They are here at this time for a reason, it has to be so."

"Thadeu fears they may try to use me," he mentioned and she smiled in response.

"Of course they wish to use you to gain knowledge. Is that not what you wish from them?"

Torren granted her that. "I suppose, what I truly mean to ask is if you see any danger in dealing with them," he asked.

She turned away and wandered further across the sand some more as she reflected on his question.

"It will not be simple, Torren. They are a shard, but not a part of the vase itself," she said almost more to herself than to him. "Perhaps an additional structure, perhaps?"

She stopped in the centre of the open sparring area and looked up at the night sky. She closed her eyes as if enjoying the falling moonlight on her face. Her people spent most of their life outside, seeing buildings as only places to sleep. When he held a meeting with her alone, he usually sat outside in a courtyard with her.

"I see no danger for you, Torren, or for your people," Sitayi said suddenly and decisively, surprising him somewhat. "Those of Atlantis are important for the future, that much I am certain about. And the Elite – they will be closely tied with them."

Torren nodded at that, not surprised. "I have thought as much, for Atlantis seems to already have the respect of the Elite."

"Yes," Sitayi replied softly and deeply, her voice almost a reverent whisper, as it so often could become when she used her gift. "The Elite, Torren, they are the ties that hold the vase in shape. We have trusted them since the first, since the old ages of Hastos and Sythus, the first Elite who fought against the Wraith long before the Alliance was even a wistful dream."

Sitayi had great respect for the Elite, despite her people's distaste for violence. Torren knew that her voice in support of Honoured Elite Nalla's choice to join the Elite had been vital. Sitayi' opinion of Nalla had helped gain her acceptance among the guiding circle that was the Pelydr's people's government.

A deep quiet filled the courtyard once more, and Torren watched Sitayi stood in the centre of the sand covered area, the moonlight falling on her upturned face.

"Thank you for your advice," he said after a long pause, grateful for what she had chosen to share with him. He had gained enough from her and the others to confirm his own instincts about entering into trading with Atlantis. Sitayi had also confirmed the importance of his other plans, in introducing Atlantis to select Alliance officials who would be visiting for Zabetha's marriage. Perhaps in that way, Torren could assist in Atlantis' gradual and peaceful introduction to the many peoples within the Alliance.

Sitayi opened her eyes and turned to look at him. "I have more," she said, and a strange sensation grazed across the back of his neck, his senses sharpening.

"That is unusual," he replied with a smile.

She did not return his smile though, and instead she looked away towards the far end of the courtyard.

"You know that my visions are difficult to understand, that they are a mix of so much information, too much, unclear and conflicting. However, sometimes a name, face, or moment stands out with such clarity that it is blindingly clear. I know that all of those clear moments I have foreseen in my visions, I will one day reach and experience in my current moment. Those moments are always vital, just as I had foreseen. My first teacher who instructed me in diplomacy, I saw her face and felt my respect for her from my earliest visions. Then years later there she was, sat in the learning circle, and I knew she was important before even speaking with her. I knew that she would guide me. She gave me skills that have shaped my life."

Torren listened with rapt interest at the glimpse of Sitayi's life. No one knew precisely how old she was, for her people aged slower than most, and it was considered rude to ask.

"There have been other moments, not just personal for me, but moments significant in the greater scheme of things. I saw Nalla years before her birth, and knew that she would be different."

Sitayi began moving slowly back towards him, but her gaze was still directed down towards the far end of the courtyard. Torren wondered if the distant guard was worrying her.

"Today, I paused to enjoy the sunshine in the gathering courtyard and so did not follow Charin immediately into this courtyard to find Honoured Elite Emmagan. I followed afterwards. I entered over there," she indicated the far doorway she was looking towards. "I caught a glimpse of the sparring area and then heard talking, including your beautiful eldest daughter's voice. I moved forward and looked out over here from between those pillars. And here," she pointed to the area of sand directly in front of her. "I saw one of my visions in reality again."

Torren stared at her. "Teyla?"

"I have already seen you daughter many times in vision, as you know. No, this was a man I have seen many times in my visions, and here he was standing with your daughter, alive and smiling."

"Major Sheppard," Torren replied with surprise and a wealth of relief. "Atlantis _will_ be important."

Sitayi smiled at him. "You already know that, Torren. My advice, and the others', it only confirms what you have already felt." She moved closer and looked up at him with her more usual friendly smile.

"Trust yourself, Torren, and your instincts. How you feel when you first see, first meet a person, first hear a word, that initial instinctive response from deep inside – it is _always_ right, even if we ignore and forget it, or try to cover it with reasoning. That first response, it is from the wisest part of ourselves and most do not pay it enough heed. It is in everyone, and it is the source of all my people's skills."

Torren felt honoured to receive such sage advice from her.

"That said, Torren," she continued though. "I will give some specific direct advice."

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

She stepped closer. "Honoured Elite Emmagan and Major Sheppard, their friendship is important. Allow it to foster the link between your peoples."

Torren nodded. "Glue and ties," he suggested. He had felt this already, and maybe it was the reason why he had wanted to see them interact so closely. He had seen the potential in it, but Sitayi was suggested it truly was vital.

"Cement, Torren, cement" Sitayi elaborated. She reached out and touched his arm. "Foster their time together, let it be, give them space." She had never spoken this way before to him. "There will be times when you will question it. You will question their choices, you will doubt, you will worry, but give them space."

Torren stared into her dark purple eyes, pulled into them.

"They are important," Sitayi added, sealing any questions he might have asked her. "Let them be so."

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>TBC<p> 


	12. Gathering

**Note:** We are now almost into what I think of as the second stage of this fic – things are about to get more interesting for John and Teyla…

**Chapter 12 - Gathering**

00000

"It sounds like it was another very successful trip," Colonel Carter surmised once Woolsey had finally finished his report.

There hadn't been any time to debrief last night, as they had gotten back from Athos in the middle of Atlantis' night, so they had gathered in Carter's office this morning for the debrief. John had added his two cents to Woolsey's report here and there, which had seemed to annoy the bureaucrat a touch, so John had kept at it. It saved time to add his comments along with Woolsey's, and besides any chance for a little payback for the two and a half hour lecture was good in John's book. Colonel Sumner had remained quiet through most of the report, simply stood beside Colonel Carter's desk, his arms permanently crossed.

"Yes, potentially a very positive beginning," Woolsey agreed. He seemed pretty stoked about his time talking with Torren and the others, particularly Jalada and Zabetha. "Torren has offered to introduce us to further Alliance representatives today as they gather for Zabetha Emmagan's wedding."

"Any clue what they want from us yet?" Sumner asked.

Woolsey glanced at him through his thin-rimmed glasses. "No, but I suspect from reading between the lines yesterday, that Torren is particularly interested in our use of Ancient technology."

This was news to John. He had missed out, fortunately for the most part, on the small polite talk Woolsey had been engaged in. John had instead been getting his backside happily kicked by Teyla, and then when back in the tearoom, Ambassador Sitayi had commandeered most of his time. Not that he had been complaining. After Teyla had gone, and he had reluctantly admitted to himself that he had to focus on the small talk himself, he had started asking Sitayi questions and had actually really enjoyed her company. Still was weird talking to a purple human though.

"You think Torren wants something that's in Atlantis?" Sumner asked.

"I don't think so," Woolsey said carefully, "I think it is more to do with their own use of Ancient technology. I gathered, from talking more with Ambassador Jalada in particular, that the advanced technology developed by the Alliance is mostly limited to the military's use."

John considered that. "In Tjaru, the most advanced technology we saw were electronic pads and computer screens set into the walls. They still use wooden carts pulled by a cow-like animal. I thought it was a cultural thing."

Woolsey was nodding. "It may well be to a certain extent, but apparently Ambassador Jalada's system, Scherla, has about the same level of technology as Athos. Also, from some other comments between Ambassador Jalada and Representative Charin, it appears that Alliance health care is only just catching up to what we would consider level with their technological advance."

"So, before now all Alliance resources have been channelled into the military," Colonel Carter concluded.

"Makes sense," Sumner said, "their main focus has been to defeat the Wraith. The military's success has been more important than supplying farmers with engines for their carts."

"On the Elite ship, the Sythus," John added, "there seemed pretty advanced medical care, but I got the impression that it was Elite designed. In fact, the ship, and the Hastos, seemed very different to the marketing station and the other Alliance ships in the fleet, at least as much as I saw. It was almost as if the Sythus and Hastos are more specialised technology, kind of how prototypes look for a test flight."

"So perhaps even the Elite's ships and technology is separate from the rest of the Alliance military?" Colonel Carter asked thoughtfully.

John shrugged. He hadn't really thought about this before, but looking back at what he had seen, now through the new lens of having been on an Alliance world, meant that he was seeing things in a new light. Passing comments he had heard on the marketing station and between the Elite also began to make a bit more sense. "I seem to remember that the Elite have their own engineering workforce, that their crews were specialised just to work for the Elite."

"So, the military has been monopolising technological advance and medical science, and the Elite perhaps even more so. But, the rest of the Alliance fleet looked strong?" Colonel Carter asked.

"From the outside," John confirmed. "They certainly had enough juice in them to fight the Wraith Hives and burn the planet with the Wraith base."

"And they've certainly been doing well against the Wraith since as they've started expanding their territory," Woolsey added.

"But perhaps the benefits of peace aren't being shared throughout the Alliance. Before their people were happy to be safe and protected, Wraith free, but now they're seeing what they're missing out on. New medical care and technology that the military isn't sharing," Carter considered.

"It's probably a form of control by the Alliance," Sumner suggested.

"I understand from Ambassador Jalada, and from a few comments by Torren," Woolsey continued, "that worlds with Ancient technology within the Alliance are considered fortunate. If they can get it working and maintain it properly."

Colonel Carter leant forward and set her forearms on her desk. "You think they want spare parts from us?" She asked him with an amused smile.

"Possibly, it's clear that the Athosians are particularly interested in Ancient technology," Woolsey replied.

"They've got that Gateway," John added.

"Yes," Woolsey agreed, "but I think it goes deeper than that. There was the sense from the other ambassadors that the Athosians are known, almost joked about, to have a particular reverence for all things Ancient. I wouldn't be surprised if they had collected quite a lot of Ancient pieces over the years."

John saw the glint in Woolsey's eye – he was building up to something and was pleased with himself about it. Woolsey had learnt a hell of a lot from talking over a couple of cups of tea. John wondered if he had any British blood in him.

"Apparently there are Athosian engineers who work solely on Ancient technology," Woolsey continued, "but I gather it's not been as straightforward as it has been for you here in Atlantis."

"I'm not sure Rodney and his staff would agree that it's been straightforward working on the systems here," Carter interjected with a glance at John. John could only imagine how Rodney would have reacted to that throw away comment from Woolsey.

"Well, no obviously, it's not been simple," Woolsey quickly corrected. "But, at least here the systems are intact and workable. As you've reported before, on other worlds in Pegasus what remains of Ancient technology is in pieces or barely functioning. It's likely it's the same on the Alliance worlds, but for them their Military would already have commandeered anything truly useful."

"So, they're left with the broken scraps," John concluded. "The Gateway wasn't a scrap, the shield might not be working anymore, but there's functioning systems in there."

"If it doesn't have a military use, the military probably leave it to the Alliance world," Carter suggested. "Or perhaps the Athosians have gotten really good at repairing Ancient tech. It's all supposition at this point."

"True, but it's a starting point, and I sense it's important to the Athosians in particular. I gather, reading between the lines," Woolsey stressed again, he was clearly about to deliver the point he was anxious to share. "It sounds like there are very few who can actually activate Ancient technology in the Alliance."

Carter smiled with understanding. "You think Torren wants the ATA therapy," she concluded.

Woolsey nodded. "I suspect as much, not that Torren has said anything directly so far."

"The Alliance already knows about the gene, or so Sheppard said in his report," Sumner added, "you'd think they would have come up with their own version of the gene therapy by now."

"If they have, it's likely it's as controlled outside the military as Ancient tech," Carter replied.

"From what I saw," John added, "The Military and the Elite used their own technology. I didn't see any Ancient tech when I was with them."

"So, perhaps they haven't developed the therapy themselves, they've been too focused on developing their own ships and weapons as fast as possible to fight the Wraith," Carter considered. "If the Alliance mostly uses its own technology, then there wouldn't be that much need to develop a way to use Ancient tech. And from what we've seen so far in this galaxy, the ATA gene is far less prevalent than on Earth. Which makes sense if when the Ancients retreated back to Atlantis, and finally escaped to Earth, that they probably took any of their offspring with them."

"Or maybe they didn't breed with the locals back then," Sumner added somewhat distastefully John felt.

John remembered the story that Abas had told them on the way to Tjaru. "Abas, our Athosian guard turned guide, told us about an Athosian descendant of the Ancients, who stayed behind to help defend them against the Wraith."

"Which suggests that maybe there are a few with the gene on Athos then," Colonel Carter replied. "If they've been left more bits and pieces of Ancient tech over the years, been gathering it for themselves…"

John remembered Teyla's uncle, Elkaska, was a trader. His stall had included various random bits of technology that had the look of scrap. John would bet anything that Elkaska had found some old discarded or ignored deactivated Ancient tech over the years.

Carter's gaze moved to John, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Did you manage to talk to Torren about getting us a look inside the Gateway towers?" She asked. John felt a faint flush of embarrassment to think that Rodney might have told her about the mirror he had borrowed. He had just wanted to look smart for the important visits.

"I mentioned that McKay was an expert on all things Ancestor, and that he would kill for a look around," John replied.

Carter grinned at him, understanding with John that the statement was almost an understatement where Rodney was concerned.

"Not in those precise words, obviously," Woolsey stressed with his reprimanding schoolteacher tone, the one John had heard far too often over the last two days.

As they had walked back from Tjaru yesterday evening, Woolsey had quizzed John on everything that had happened when he had been out of the tearoom. How had he met Charin and Sitayi the first time? What had they said? What had Teyla said to him? John had chosen to carefully edit what he had shared with Woolsey, but had still been subjected to further lecturing about how "in future" he should try to talk without engaging in sparring. It was hardly the way to represent Atlantis to "sweat and swear" as an Elite warrior beat him up. John had objected to that particular point, though, admittedly, the beating up point had been true, and Woolsey hadn't even known about the backside hits.

He glanced at Woolsey now, sat beside him with that pointed look that asked if John had understood and taken in the instructional point Woolsey was making.

"I put it better than that," John confirmed, only just keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. Carter struggled to control her smile as she looked away from him and Woolsey, quietly considering all they had told her as she studied the empty space of her desk in front of her.

"Did Elite Warrior Emmagan mention anything about Ancient tech before?" She asked after a beat.

"Only about the clinic Iketani' baby was 'born' in, and the Elite obviously knew all about the ATA gene," he replied as he tried to think hard about what Teyla had said to him before. "I remember that there isn't any love lost for the Ancients by the Elite. They see the Ancients as having run away from a fight and leaving the rest of the galaxy to face the Wraith by themselves."

"They have a point," Carter replied.

John gave a shrugged gesture of agreement.

"It's likely then, if your instincts are right, Richard, we could have a seriously powerful trading tool in our hands with the gene therapy," Carter said.

"And the Athosians love all things Ancestor," John added, "and we live in Atlantis, City of the Ancestors."

Carter smiled and nodded at his point. "And it seems that the Athosians trade with a large number of other worlds."

"Torren mentioned several worlds he trades with outside Alliance territory, and I recognised a few of them," Woolsey added. "I checked the reports earlier this morning and the names tie up."

"So, it may be worth us making some enquiries with some of our own friends outside the Alliance border and seeing what they think of the Athosians," Carter suggested.

"Yes, although, I already suspect that they will be favourable reports. The three ambassadors we met yesterday all seemed to take the fact that Athosians are good traders for granted," Woolsey replied.

"Ambassadors that Torren handpicked for you to meet first," Sumner pointed out.

"True," Woolsey agreed, "but so far Torren seems genuine and friendly enough. I didn't perceive anything worrying."

Both he and Carter looked round at John. "I agree," John replied immediately.

"And Elite Warrior Emmagan," Carter said and then smiled. "Shall we just call her Emmagan from now on? It's less of a mouthful."

"Sure, as long as we use her full title with anyone from the Alliance; the Elite have a lot of respect," John replied.

"Very much so," Woolsey added. "They are practically a ruling class of their own, though it seems that they do attempt to keep out of politics for the most part. Emmagan only remained in the meeting for a short time and made a point to say that she had to keep out of any talks between Atlantis and Athos."

"But, she was happy to talk to you, John?" Carter added.

John felt a touch uncomfortable at that, but he hadn't heard any emphasis in Carter's words or expression.

"Sure, she even showed me some bantos fighting, the martial art of choice on Athos," John replied, carefully controlling his response - casual, yet professional.

"It seems to be the global sport of choice," Woolsey added. "Everyone across the Athosian worlds seems to train in the style at school and there is currently a championship competition being held on Athos."

"I met Vako, he's supposed to be the favourite to win," John supplied. "He was sparring with Emmagan when I first got there."

"Think he'll win?" Carter asked.

"Not sure, but I sure as hell wouldn't want to fight against him," John replied with feeling.

"Emmagan," Woolsey added, "offered to show Major Sheppard some more of the sport-"

"Martial art," John corrected.

Woolsey glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Martial art, thank you. However, I suspect it was a way to suggest to the ambassadors that we have the approval of the Elite."

Carter nodded, but her attention was on John. "You said Emmagan asked for information on the worlds outside the Alliance border that we've visited."

"She knew that there's been unrest on some worlds, and seemed interested to know what we've seen," John replied. "I got the impression that she, and the Elite, would be open to a bit of intel exchange."

"And Torren made it clear that our continuing involvement with the Elite will work favourably for us within the Alliance," Woolsey noted.

John had to agree with him now, as after yesterday, John felt somewhat resigned to the fact that he was going to have to play the game. If nothing else, it would keep the channel open with the Elite, and give him another opportunity to see Teyla again.

"Everybody in the Alliance respects the Elite," John stressed again. "If the Elite like us and wanna to work with us, it will mean something to the rest of the Alliance."

"Even if things fall through with Torren," Sumner put in, "if we can keep an open line of communication with the Elite, it could give us an advantage. We meet anybody off world from the Alliance, most likely it's gonna be the military, so I say we make nice with the Elite."

John was surprised to find himself totally agreeing with Sumner. "Where there's Alliance Military there will be Elite around, and so far they consider us friendlies. They'd probably even work with us again in the future if it meant killing Wraith," John added.

Colonel Carter nodded her agreement with the idea, which gave John a certain amount of relief. "The question is what we share with the Elite," Carter asked.

"The real question is what they can tell us," Sumner argued.

Carter looked up at him. "You have something particular in mind?" She asked with interest, although she probably had her own ideas.

"Where their line is advancing, any Wraith hot spots for us to avoid or target, if they hear _anything_ we should know about. And if the Elite have the top Alliance weapons technology then I say we stick close to them."

"That's all very well, Colonel," Woolsey interrupted, "but right now, Torren is offering us the chance to trade, not just for fresh food supplies, but a means to understand the Alliance. He's offering the hand of friendship, and if we can make friends within the Alliance, it may make the difference in their future policy towards Atlantis."

"If Torren wants the ATA therapy, what's the harm?" John asked, cutting to the point.

"It only has a 40% success rate at best, and we control the supply," Sumner added. John felt weird agreeing with Sumner so much.

"You mean administer it ourselves, not give them the actual therapy," Carter considered.

"We can send Beckett to Athos to set up a makeshift clinic, administer it to whoever Torren wants us to," Sumner suggested. "Check to see how effective it is on the Athosians, maybe even get a look inside that Gateway and its technology for ourselves."

"Aside from the gene therapy and food supplies, I believe Torren is a man who values an exchange of knowledge," Woolsey said. "I suspect that if we were to allow some of their Ancestral technicians into Atlantis, then he might allow our own scientists into the Gateway."

"An exchange of scientific knowledge," Carter replied, the idea clearly appealing to her own nature.

"Maybe," John added, "they might even let us take a look at those stunners the guards wear. They have to know how to maintain them, so maybe McKay can get us some info and get us on track to making some of our own."

Carter sat back in her seat, quietly thinking things over. "So far it all seems good. What we need is a clearer picture of what exactly it is Torren is offering, and what he wants in return." She looked across her desk to Woolsey. "See if you can get any of that from him today, Richard. Make it clear that we're happy to move forward to negotiation, and if what he proposes sounds good, then I'd like to meet Torren myself."

"I'll see what I can do," Woolsey replied. John wondered if he felt Carter was treading on his toes a bit with that suggestion.

"I'll talk to the IOA and Earth Defence as well, see how much rope we have to work with," Carter added.

"And what should I tell Emmagan?" John asked, making sure that point wasn't forgotten in all the trading talk.

"I don't see any harm in telling her about our experiences off world, the riots and the bad rep the Alliance is getting," Carter replied looking up at Sumner. He gave an expression that seemed to suggest he agreed. Carter looked back to John. "But, I think in order to protect confidences of some of those we know, best not to tell her any specific world or people's names."

"Even if I could," John replied with a half shrug.

He barely took in the official names for the planets they visited, since in Atlantis most planets and moons were referred to by their designation, or more commonly off duty by a more descriptive name. Ford in particular liked to name worlds, such as 'the waterfall planet', or the 'the planet with all the daisy fields' and so on. Almost anyone within the city knew which planet they were talking about then, rather than M1368 or whatever. So, truth be told, John wouldn't be able to tell Teyla any useful names anyway.

"And lets see what information the Elite will give us back," Carter concluded.

John nodded, everyone seemingly pleased, and even Sumner looked hopeful, which actually made John feel a touch uncomfortable. He had stopped trying to get Sumner to treat him with the same level of respect as everybody else, but oddly when it came to the Alliance, Sumner seemed happy to let John play the role Carter and Woolsey wanted him to. John wondered if it was because it meant that he spent far less time in Sumner's presence, or, more likely, it was because Sumner saw the Elite as the best chance to get his hands on some space guns. As the meeting broke up, with only an hour or so until they would leave for Athos again, John decided he really had to stop letting Ford name things.

00000

The Gate Room was particularly busy when John got back from his early lunch, and slightly less time spent today on the neatness of his jacket. The new teams were still being trained, which meant that there were more people heading out more often on missions. Colonel Carter was stood at the base of the stairs, Woolsey annoyingly ready and waiting, tie neatly pressed as ever, so John headed over to them. Lorne and Martins had again been volunteered for babysitting duty, but they were stood to one side talking with a marine team.

"Major," Carter greeted him as he reached her side.

"Busy in here," John commented.

"We just had a report in from Captain Donovan's team, they were running a planetary scan when the Jumper's sensors picked up a Hive on its way," she reported.

"Which planet?" John asked.

"The one with all the bakeries," Lorne supplied as he approached, Martins at his shoulder.

"Oh, that one. Donovan loves that planet," John replied with a grin, only then to realise the situation properly. "How long until the Hive reaches the planet?"

"We're not sure it's the destination, but if McKay's calculations are right, it may be a stopping off point for one of the Hives we've been tracking on our long range sensors," Carter replied as another team entered the Gate Room, all geared up and ready to join the other two waiting. "Best guess is that they will arrive in 36 hours' time." She turned and looked up towards the Control Room's balcony. "Dial it up, Chuck," she called out loudly over the noise of so many ready around the Gate.

"You want us to stay and help out?" John asked.

Carter looked back to him as the Gate started lighting up. "No need just yet, we've got time and three more teams heading out to help Captain Donovan's team. There's a big population on that planet, but they're mostly within a day's walk of the Gate."

John had to agree it sounded like things were in hand, but he kind of hated leaving Atlantis to go to some fancy politician meet and greet, while others were fighting to get a population evacuated before the Wraith arrived.

"I've already sent through a second Jumper to help speed up the search for outlining villages," Carter was adding, her attention shifting between watching those leaving and Sumner stood up on the Control Room's balcony. John could hear the Colonel's orders being barked through his radio, but it was all the basic 'watch each other's backs' speech.

"The Colonel's not going?" John asked carefully.

"No, he's taking the rest of Major Lorne's team with him back to the planet Captain Legg's team is still visiting. She reported that they've found what looks like abandoned Wraith tech. McKay should be able to find out why it was abandoned and how long ago."

And John felt another urge of reluctance to go again, as much as he wanted to help with the Atlantis, Elite, and Athos relationship, he didn't like his own team going out without him, even if it included Colonel Sumner.

"I take it Ford is going with them?" He asked, and it now made sense why he hadn't seen Ford yet, because he was probably making sure McKay was ready to leave on Sumner's mission. It was usually John's unofficial job to dig McKay out of his lab and away from whatever gadgety thing he was working on, to get him geared up ready for a mission. All while ignoring the jibes about how science work was just as important, if not more so, than mission work. John usually got McKay on the march and geared up in about half an hour, but he suspected it would take Ford longer, for he tended to let McKay's arguments rile him up.

"I'm sure you'll be alright with Lorne and Martins," Carter replied. "Unless you think you'll need more?" She asked. "I could spare maybe a couple of-" she considered.

"Everyone's needed for the evac," John replied immediately. "We'll be fine." Lorne was nodding at John's right.

"Unless it's boredom we may need rescuing from," Lorne replied quietly, but Carter heard him and glanced at Woolsey, who was busy fussing over his jacket.

"I'll have backup sent in if you need it," Carter said, "otherwise we'll dial into Athos in 6 hours, like yesterday."

John nodded along with Lorne and Martins, as the Gate shut down across the room, the evacuation teams all through the Gate.

"Chuck, dial up Athos," Carter called as she turned and began to walk up the staircase. "Good luck."

John focused on the wormhole flashing into life and snapping back into place, and this time Woolsey strode forward far more confidently. John lengthened his strides to catch up.

"Remember, we're still potentially in enemy territory," he reminded the team, but really it was for Woolsey's benefit.

Athos was not quite as hot today as it had been yesterday. There were thin white clouds across the sky and a nice breeze around the Gate as John stepped first out of the Gate.

There were carts parked all round the open space in front of the Gate, all being loaded up. Pedestrians stood in a line to one side of the Gate with the look of people queuing to use it. John smiled politely and quickly led the Atlantis group to the side and towards the guards' station.

They had already been clocked and Abas was already moving towards them with his usual wide smile. John wondered how long the guy had been waiting there in case they had turned up early by Athosian time.

"It is good to greet you again, Major Sheppard, Mr Woolsey," Abas said, his smile extending to Lorne and Martins, who were holding back, trying to keep an eye on all the activity around them. "I shall escort you to Tjaru again," he added, his voice raised to be heard over the loud baying of one of the cow like creatures.

Keeping close to Woolsey's side, John followed Abas out of the craziness around the Gate, to find that the road to Tjaru was equally as busy.

"You must forgive the busy roads today," Abas said as they walked along the bank at the side of the busy road. "The carnival is in only two day's time. Although none of the stalls can be set up until the night before, as you can imagine the supplies need to be brought in far earlier."

Across the expanse of the fields to the right of the road, John could see several wooden stages being constructed, with the usual sawing, hammering and people pointing with importance going on. Across the wide empty fields pegs had been driven into the ground with brightly coloured string linked up along them, forming long dividing lines.

"For the stalls," Abas was explaining loudly again over the creaking of passing carts and a crying child. "As I spoke of yesterday, the stalls will stretch out into the far distance."

"Will everyone be staying in the city?" Woolsey asked loudly.

"No, people will be expected to pitch their tents and stalls across the fields the night before or early on the morning of the carnival. They will all then depart the night of the carnival, or, more likely, early the following morning as there will likely be much ruus wine flowing the night of the carnival," he added with a grin. John guessed ruus wine was their equivalent to beer or maybe moonshine. "As the wedding ceremony will be held the following day, most of the official visitors will arrive on the day of the carnival or late the following morning, and it would not do to be greeted by drunken revellers from the night before." Abas chuckled at that, seeming to be enjoying himself today as much as he was yesterday.

John watched one of the stages being built in the distance – it was the recognisable flat boards raised up off the ground, and they were currently working on the wings of the stage. There was something reassuring about the fact that stages were built the same here as back on Earth. The other stage was just a square raised space, on the top of which two people were carefully painting the outline of a large circle.

"Lieutenant Ford is not with you today?" Abas asked John.

"He was needed on another mission," John replied.

Abas nodded. "I imagine that Atlantis is a very busy place, full of warriors and engineers."

"And scientists," Lorne added offhandedly as he watched the carts rolling close by. "There's plenty of them too."

Only one other guard was with them today and he followed along behind Martins, but John had seen what had drawn Lorne's attention. Along the far edge of the busy road, there were other guards stationed along the way. They weren't focused specifically on the group from Atlantis, but they were clearly watching over things. John looked further up the road seeing the natural tones of the guards' uniforms positioned periodically along the road, their backs to the forest's tree line. They seemed to be nodding a lot to familiar faces passing by, but John also saw a few of them were answering questions and pointing out across the fields. Security on Athos was friendly, but already in place for the carnival.

"Of course," Abas replied to Lorne. "We have heard that your people have been studying many worlds, comparing them to your own no doubt."

"Sure," John replied, guessing that was essentially what scientists did in Atlantis.

"Your scientists would be particularly fascinated in the variety of goods that will be available to purchase at the carnival," Abas continued. "Trading of plantings, vegetables, fruits, baked goods-"

"That'll please Donovan," Martins commented from behind John, and though it provoked a smile, it just made John wonder how the evac was going on that other planet. A planet not protected by the Alliance.

"…and other items, so many that you will barely be able to recall them all," Abas continued on his tour guide routine.

"Is it also an event to exchange scientific research as well?" Woolsey asked.

"I am not sure, but I do know that it will be seen as a gathering for all manner of peoples. I do remember some experiments being demonstrated during the last carnival, but to be honest I was limited in my time to enjoy all there was, as I was on duty for part of the day."

"I bet every guard on Athos will be on duty on carnival day," Lorne asked.

"Most of us, yes," Abas replied. "But the duties are overlaid to allow most some time to actually enjoy the celebration. Most of us have families who live in or near Tjaru, so it is nice to enjoy the time with them."

"Does your family live in Tjaru?" Woolsey asked Abas, beating John to a similar question.

"My parents both live in a nearby settlement. My sister and her husband live in Tjaru, and I often help her look after her two new younglings."

"Twins huh?" John asked.

"Yes," Abas replied with a grin. "A boy and a girl. She was most fortunate. Such births can often be dangerous." It brought to mind the point about Alliance health care.

"Do you have am official hospital in Tjaru?" John asked. "Where she was cared for," he added to explain his question.

"We have healing centres, where the sick can be treated. You may remember seeing one tall building in the city, with glass panels on its Portal side, reflecting the light of a pool of water at its side." John nodded, though he only vaguely remembered the building, and certainly not the pool of water part. "That is one of two larger centres, were the very sick, or women who need assistance for birthing, can stay. My sister had to reside there for many days prior to the birth. There is a particularly lovely garden out the back for those staying, and she spent most of her time sat out under a tree, preparing the first blankets."

John smiled at the picture Abas had painted. "Good to know it went alright for her, and she has two healthy kids."

"Yes, they are healthy, she believes sometimes too much," he said with a grin. "They have much exuberance, and with two of them… I try to assist her as much as I can."

"I'm sure she appreciates it, Abas," John replied. He liked this guy.

They had taken the right hand fork towards Tjaru, and already the Gateway was towering over them. There were very long queues of people heading into Tjaru today, both on foot and on carts. To the right, John could see more of the fields where the stages were being built. To one side, close to the wall of the city, a large area was being piled up with cloth from a line of carts. Presumably, they were tents for the stalls or whatever. Everyone looked busy, but relaxed and cheerful. Even in the long queues of people waiting to get into the city, people stood happily, chatting away. Some people had brought with them some fold up stools, John noticed, and were perched on them in the queue as they waited their turn through the Gateway.

However, the group from Atlantis didn't have to wait. Abas led them straight ahead, between the queued lines. John noticed that Abas stood a bit taller as he took the lead now, looking more official. John felt a bit on show being led by guards past the queues straight into the city, but he smiled at those in the queues, trying not to feel like the queue jumper he was. Mostly, there were only curious glances as he and the others passed, but a few of the cart drivers frowned down at them. The cow creatures stood patiently, bored even, before the carts, their long tails swishing from side to side, keeping away the tiny insects buzzing around their hides.

At the entrance to Tjaru, between the feet of the towers, John was not surprised to see Tisirus appear. He didn't stop them, or join them, but nodded to them silently as they passed. John noticed that most of the nod and focus was on him, and John returned it with a smile. He bet the next few days would be tough for the guy, in charge of all the vast number of people coming in and out of Tjaru. A carnival of the size Abas was describing was going to be a security nightmare and John didn't envy Tisirus the job.

Through the Gateway and its gentle Ancient tech buzz, they followed Abas along the same high street as yesterday. As expected it was busier, but it seemed that life in Tjaru was pretty much the same as yesterday only more so. Kids still ran circles around talking adults, the chase game creating giggles and the occasional telling off. The tables and shelves of the stalls and stores that he could see, seemed to be piled higher, and there were far more shoppers than yesterday.

Even as they left the stores behind and headed into the houses, there were more people out and about than before, and the large park they walked past, was full of people sitting out in the sun. John imagined that a lot of family members would be crashing in on relatives for the big carnival day. He wondered where Athosians took relatives for a 'nice day out' in Tjaru, other than the park.

Soon enough they reached the road to the Governing Buildings, and as the complex came into view, John saw that the guards on duty outside had been doubled. They stood at attention, but several didn't have the nice protective alcoves that the others had to stand in out of the sun. John wondered if they rotated round.

As they walked up the wide path to the entrance to the Governing Buildings, which was becoming a very familiar sight, John saw that several young women were hanging up white and bright yellow bunting along the inside of the glass windows. Noticing the attention and approaching visitors, the girls all scurried together, likely giggling as girls always did in such situations, regardless as to which galaxy you were in apparently. They were whispering and glancing at him and the others as they entered the entrance hall.

Torren's assistant was already waiting for them, a computer tablet balanced on one arm, Tisirus had phoned ahead it seemed. The assistant moved forward to meet them, sparing a moment to glare tactfully at the giggling girls, who all fell silent and went back to work with the bunting.

"Welcome again," the assistant said politely and John tried desperately to remember what the guy's name was.

"Thank you, Hakon is it?" Woolsey asked, typical that he would remember.

"Yes," Hakon replied with another smile. "I am Torren's assistant. He will be with you very shortly. We have several more visitors with us today and his time is understandably constrained."

"We understand completely," Woolsey replied. "I hope that we will not be too much of an inconvenience."

Hakon frowned faintly before he controlled his expression. "I know for sure that you are not, it is just that Torren may be delayed a few moments until he can greet you."

John's attention had already wandered away, up to the wall murals above them. The main mural directly above depicted the Wraith culling and the Alliance rescue, drawing the eye as usual, but John hadn't had the chance to look at the other murals on the other walls properly before, and now with a few minutes spare, he turned and looked up at them.

As Woolsey made polite chat with Hakon, John stared up at the mural of Tjaru being rebuilt, the Athosians depicted as strong and happy, as compared to the culling mural. Rolling hills and forest surrounded the city, with a wide bright blue lake to one side. John turned and looked at the mural next to it, the one that overlooked the doorway back out of the entrance hall. Across this mural stood the inner wall of Tjaru, the Gateway standing tall and proud at the centre. The city was depicted in as much loving detail as was possible from the limited view of the city at this angle, as if you were looking out of a window towards the Gateway. Yet, as he looked closer, he noticed that there was someone stood on a raised platform high up between the towers of the Gateway, one arm held high with their hand stretched out towards the Gateway, as if warding off danger outside the walls of the city.

"Madumo?" John guessed quietly to himself.

"Yes," Abas replied quietly from his right, having overheard John talking to himself. "It is told that there used to be a statue of her, stood there before the Gateway, but that the Wraith destroyed it. Our people rebuilt the statue and again the Wraith destroyed it twice more, until finally no replacement was put in its place. But, it was not because of defeat, it was with the knowledge that Madumo lives in all of us, and we do not need a statue to remind us of her aid in defending Tjaru. However, Leader Torren, on commissioning this painting, decided to have the statue in place once more, in this image at least." He had spoken softly, reverently as he spoke of Madumo.

Footsteps echoed from behind John, like twice before, and he turned expecting them to arrive from the corridor to the tearoom, but instead they were approaching from behind the closed doors directly ahead. The doors swung open and Torren appeared, with an unfamiliar man at his side. Immediately John saw that Torren was not as relaxed as he had been during the last two days. He was dressed smartly again, in another jacket with the same crossed front like the guards.

"Welcome back to Tjaru," he said smiling, but unlike the last two days, his body language was more controlled, more official. "I greet you for on behalf of my people."

Woolsey stepped slightly forward from the rest of the group and nodded. "Greetings again, Leader Torren," he replied, picking up on the more official language.

Torren and the new man stopped in front of Woolsey and John moved forward to join them, Lorne and Martins just behind them.

"It is good to see you again Mr Woolsey, Major Sheppard," Torren said. "May I introduce you to High Council Representative Garthew, of Rosenthal."

John's attention slid to the new man, a High Council member, and he guessed this was why Torren was far more formal today. John felt himself stand a touch straighter. Garthew was a wide shouldered man, but tall, and it was very clear that he used to be a military man. He stood straight and tall, his shoulders back and his chin high. He was not dressed in a uniform, that John could tell, but it was clearly designed to be as close to one as possible. He even had some tassels hanging from his shoulders. He may have been military but his waist width wasn't any more, clearly he had been living a more relaxed life, but still held himself tall and proud. He studied John and Woolsey with tight assessing eyes, that wasn't that far from how Tisirus had looked at them the first day they had arrived on Athos.

"Greetings, Representative Garthew," Woolsey said immediately all formal and official in return.

Garthew inclined his head in response. "And to you," he replied and as he brought his tightly cropped greying head back up, the assessing look returned.

"Mr Woolsey is the political advisor sent by Atlantis to speak with my people concerning possible trade," Torren said.

"And we are honoured by the invitation," Woolsey replied to Torren with another one of those polite nods.

"Mr Woolsey's superiors have empowered him to speak with me on behalf of Atlantis, but also their home world, named Earth."

"And I understand that this home world is in another collection of stars, another galaxy?" Garthew asked, and there seemed to be a touch of doubt in his voice John thought.

"Yes, indeed," Woolsey replied.

"Representative Garthew's home world, as I mentioned, is named Rosenthal, and they were one of the very first to establish the Alliance," Torren reported.

Woolsey nodded with polite respect and awe that Garthew probably wanted for that point. Torren turned his attention on John abruptly.

"Representative Garthew, Major Sheppard is one of the most respected warriors in Atlantis, and has personally worked alongside the Elite on two occasions," Torren supplied.

Garthew turned his grey eyes on John with a wide expression of interest. John decided not to point out any amendments to what Torren had said, but he sensed Lorne's amusement at the 'most respected' part.

"Major Sheppard," Garthew greeted. "I am honoured to meet with a warrior deemed worthy enough to assist the Elite." John wasn't entirely sure that there had been a touch of insult in there, but he just nodded and smiled back.

"And Major Sheppard," Torren continued, "has worked personally with Honoured Elite Emmagan before." John glanced at Torren to see the faintest stare to the man's eyes that seemed to be communicating something.

"Yes," John said quickly. "I have been very honoured to work with Honoured Elite Emmagan." Torren nodded as if it was new news to him, but his attention held onto John. John decided to play his planned card a little earlier, sensing it might help Torren with this political moment, which clearly needed to be focused on all things military to impress Garthew.

"And if I might ask, Leader Torren," John said in as politician type way as he could. "If Honoured Elite Emmagan is available today, I have some reports that I know the Elite will be very interested to hear. Current situations with the Wraith," he added to Garthew, who looked intrigued.

"Of course, Major Sheppard," Torren replied. "Honoured Elite Emmagan is currently in the Governing Buildings, and I am sure would welcome any discussion with you, she has expressed as such before." Torren turned to Hakon, who was already tapping away on his tablet. "Until then, if you would join us, there are several of us meeting in the gathering courtyard." He turned and gestured back to the long corridor that could be seen through the still open doors behind them.

"We would be honoured," Woolsey replied and moved forward. "Representative Garthew, are you in Tjaru for the wedding of Leader Torren's youngest daughter?"

"Yes, though I decided to arrive a day early to enjoy the courtyards of Tjaru," Garthew replied as he fell into step with Woolsey, Hakon having somehow taken the lead down the long straight corridor. "Tell me, Mr Woolsey, are you part of your people's military?"

John tuned out of the discussion because he found himself walking next to Torren. He glanced at the man to see a far more relaxed smile.

"Representative Garthew has visited Athos many times in the past, and his people have been close traders with my people for many generations," Torren supplied. John sensed a lot of subtext in what Torren was saying, which John would surmise as – this guy can be helpful, go with it. John smiled back.

"I see," John replied, hoping that the comment was ambiguous for Garthew if he overheard.

"I assume that you have seen the great fleet of the Alliance?" Garthew was asking Woolsey, his voice loud and echoing in the corridor.

"Lieutenant Ford is not with you today?" Torren asked, like Abas he had noticed immediately that the group was smaller.

"He was needed on another mission," John replied. "There's some Wraith trouble that we're trying to sort out."

Torren nodded with interest in his eyes. "Perhaps something else that you may wish to discuss with Honoured Elite Emmagan." John wondered at the comment, because shouldn't that be why he was already meeting with Teyla? "There are another two new ambassadors who you will meet," Torren continued. "They are both firm trading friends with Athos."

"Are you expecting many more for Zabetha's wedding?" John asked, thinking that was a safe enough topic.

"There will be just over twenty Alliance officials on the actually wedding day. However, I expect only eight will be available beforehand. Of course there will be many more visiting who do not hold as much political power. Rhakshar's family and representatives from his world, some members of my own family, many removed, will also be here, many friends and relatives of relatives, as is common with weddings," Torren added with a smile.

"It's going be a busy couple of days for you," John replied. The corridor seemed endless, but there were doors dotted along on both sides, and one there were two guards stood to attention, who leant forward and the doors were swept open. Hakon led the way through into another corridor.

"It is will very busy, but joyously so," Torren replied. "Weddings are pleasing events and well worth the effort, besides they are times of opportunity as well, friends and trading partners to meet in a more relaxed setting." John nodded at that, understanding more subtext – this was a great time for Atlantis to meet important people.

"And the carnival sounds like it's going to be very successful," John offered.

"Most of that is out of my hands," Torren said with a smile. The corridor had led to another, and John estimated that they were almost to the far right of the Governing Buildings complex by now, if his internal compass was working properly. "Zabetha has put the carnival in others' hands, but she alone has organised the wedding ceremony and such."

"I imagine you're pleased about that," John guessed, hoping he wasn't being too informal with Torren.

Torren grinned. "You are correct, Major Sheppard, I am greatly relieved."

The current corridor led directly towards large plush doors, flanked by two guards, who again reached forward and pulled open the doors, but instead of another corridor or a room beyond, sunlight greeted them.

Torren moved forward a little faster and John held back a bit.

"Mr Woolsey, I was telling Major Sheppard that there are two further Ambassadors for you to meet," Torren said to Woolsey.

"Yes, we had the honour of meeting Ambassadors Jalada and Thadeu yesterday," Woolsey said to Garthew, honoured about everything apparently. "As well as Representative Charin."

Garthew nodded. "Good people, good people," he uttered, but they had all stepped out into the courtyard now and John paused to take in the sight.

It was as if someone had taken the contents of a large lounge and put it outside. There were three long large stone benches set in a C shape to the right, and another C shape of benches opposite against the other far wall. The benches looked more like couches though, with high stone backs and large armrests on each end of the long bench. Thick brightly patterned cushions lined the benches, while small wooden tables were spaced out between the benches, laden with teapots and plates of nibbles. Around the outside of the courtyard, narrow flowerbeds held tall thin trees and tidy widely spaced shrubs at their feet. Several large stone pots were placed here and there, from which bright colourful flowers spilled out in a tidy way.

In the closest arrangement of benches, everyone John had met yesterday was seated, but Teyla was absent. Everyone else was sat spaced around the large benches talking brightly, only for them all to stand to greet the newcomers. John found himself immediately spotting Sitayi in the mix, but it wasn't anything to do with her unusual colouring. She was smiling kindly at him and he felt that at least there was someone here he felt reasonably comfortable with. Next to her stood Charin, and next to her Zabetha stepped forward to meet her father. Today she was dressing in white flowing clothes with silver detailing. Her hair looked particularly nice, all pinned up high, except for a few tendrils purposefully hanging down to outline her face. She looked particularly dressed up, probably because all this meeting and greeting was because of her upcoming wedding. Her smile seemed wider and brighter than yesterday.

"It is good to greet you all again," she said brightly, inclining her head gracefully and she remembered all their names and ranks perfectly as she nodded to each in turn.

"I am sure you remember Representative Charin from yesterday," Torren introduced formally, probably choosing her first because she was also a High Council member. Charin nodded and they all said hello again, and it was all against repeated for Ambassador Thadeu and Jalada, each sitting back down once the polite hellos were made. Two unfamiliar men were left standing, and both of them were watching them closely.

"May I introduce," Torren said as he gestured to the first man, "Ambassador Keltree of Cador, his people are from a neighbouring system to the Athosian worlds."

Keltree was not as tall as John, had large bushy eyebrows, and was dressed in varying shades of turquoise and pink. He held up both his hands, palms outwards at shoulder height as if he was surrendering. "Salutations in peace," he said with a smile and lowered his hands.

"Greetings," Woolsey replied and John copied.

"And finally, may I introduce Ambassador Eustar from the people of Malakien," Torren introduced the last man standing who stepped forward and extended his hand, Earth style, to Woolsey.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr Woolsey," Eustar said with a far more friendly approach than the others had. "Torren has told me about his meetings with you. I must admit I am jealous that he was the first in the Alliance to talk officially with those from another galaxy."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Ambassador Eustar," Woolsey replied as they shook hands. Eustar released Woolsey's hand and extended his hand to John next.

"Pleasure to meet you…?"

"This is Major John Sheppard," Torren added and John sensed the added emphasis on his name.

"Ah, The Major Sheppard, greetings," Eustar replied as he pumped John's hand. "Friend to the Elite. How wonderful to greet you."

"Nice to meet you too," John replied, trying not to wince in fear that he wouldn't get his hand back intact, but Eustar released it and turned to Lorne.

Torren introduced Lorne and Martins and Eustar exchanged pumping hand shakes with them too, pleased to hear they were 'warriors' of Atlantis as well.

Eustar had very pale hair, kind of reminding John of Iketani, which brought only bad memories to mind. Thank God she was gone. Eustar was clearly far nicer than she had been, but almost as fair. His skin was pale, but his arms and cheeks had the look that he was already picking up the sun from sitting out in the courtyard. His eyes were pale blue and sparkled with his wide smile.

"Please sit with us," Eustar added waving to the available spaces along the benches. "Torren always supplies the best of tea and food to enjoy, but then Athosians always prepare the very best food."

Charin chuckled "You say that because your beautiful wife is Athosian."

Eustar smiled. "Indeed, but it is true, Athosian women are some of the most beautiful in all the stars." He was a charmer clearly, but seemed honest about it. Charin smiled at him as she shook her head. "Do you not agree, Major Sheppard?" Eustar asked.

"Absolutely," John replied immediately, smiling towards Charin and Zabetha, though in his mind he had immediately thought of Teyla.

Zabetha and Charin smiled with the game and, sensing the invitation and the excuse to sit closer to more friendly people, John headed for the available seat next to Zabetha at the closest end of one of the benches.

Woolsey had commandeered Lorne to sit further among the politicians, but Martins had held back to sit on the end of the bench directly opposite John, where Thadeu was sitting. John once again was going to miss out on the sports talk. As John sat down, he noticed that Woolsey was seated between Torren and Garthew, and poor Lorne was on the other side of Garthew, but at least next to Jalada as well.

The cushions along the stone benches were even more comfortable than they looked, and as John sat down, the sun glowed on his face and the delicate scent of flowers filled the air. Not a bad place to hold a meeting.

"Tea, Major Sheppard?" Eustar offered indicating the small table closest to them. Eustar was seated on Sitayi' far side, which put her, Charin, and Zabetha all seated to John's left.

"I believe, Major Sheppard enjoyed the summer flower tea yesterday," Zabetha said helpfully as she reached for one of the teapots on the dark wooden table.

"Thanks," John replied and took the cup she offered him. Summer flower, why did it have to sound so girly? Tasted good though.

Zabetha settled back into her place comfortably next to him. She settled her long flowing clothing around her and turned her smile on John.

"I understand that you met Vako yesterday, Major Sheppard?" She asked.

"Truly?" Eustar asked. He was sat turned on the bench to look at John, smiling at him and the three ladies sat between them.

"He was training with my sister, Honoured Elite Emmagan," Zabetha added.

"How was his form, Major Sheppard?" Garthew asked from further along the opposite bench.

"He looked in good shape," John replied, hoping that would be enough, after all he had no idea what a good bantos form looked like. Though, surely Teyla had been the standard yesterday.

"He's going to win," Thadeu muttered loudly into his cup. Everyone else chuckled, presumably at Thadeu's continuing insistence that Vako would win out in the championship.

"Honoured Elite Emmagan has begun to train Major Sheppard in the art of bantos," Charin supplied to the entire group. John tried not to feel self-conscious at all the interested, and surprised, reactions. There was nothing wrong with her teaching him some bantos.

"That is a great honour," Eustar said before anyone else. "Perhaps we will see you one day competing in a championship?"

"I think that day is _far_ away, Ambassador," John replied carefully and the ladies laughed next to him.

"It would be wonderful to have competitors from another galaxy in the challenges," Zabetha said as she lifted one elegant hand and sipped from her tea.

"Our world team is looking strong themselves for the challenges next annual cycle," Garthew stated to Eustar.

"Rosenthal always does well of course," Eustar replied. "However you have yet been able to win over Athos consecutively."

"Anyone would think you Athosian yourself, Eustar," Thadeu said.

"As husband to an Athosian wife, he is part Athosian," Charin replied rather protectively.

John glanced further around the benches to see that Woolsey was in deep discussion with Torren more quietly and that Garthew had turned on Lorne, and John was certain he heard questions about armies carrying across from them.

"We assume there are many worlds in your home galaxy," Eustar asked John.

"Yes, as many as in Pegasus," John replied. "That's what we call your galaxy."

"Pegasus, mm, a nice enough name," Eustar considered. "What does it mean?"

John opened his mouth, his brain racing as to how he could put a good spin on a mythical flying horse, and praying that Teyla would turn up soon to save him.

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>TBC<p> 


	13. First Lessons

**Chapter 13 – First lessons**

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The sun glittered across the glorious view of Tjaru as Teyla pulled her window in until the closest lock slid into place. It would allow fresh air into her quarters, but not allow escape.

She turned and looked down at Ketra, whose dragon eyes slid from the window to Teyla mournfully. She was used to this routine now, but unfortunately, Ketra appeared even more sullen each time.

"I am sorry," Teyla said again, as she turned back to the window and checked once more that it was securely locked in place. "But, if you had restrained yourself in the blossom courtyard this would not be necessary. Mino is apparently regularly patrolling the courtyards herself."

Ketra turned away, the edge of her long tail brushing against Teyla's leg as she turned. Teyla watched Ketra slink off towards the thick rug by the hearth, and the dragon settled down slightly nervously, which was her common reaction to the mere mention of Mino's name now. Teyla tried not to smile as she stood back from the window, running her eye over it, happy that Ketra couldn't force it open.

"I would take you with me today, but I will only be sparring and there are many official guests throughout the complex," she said as she headed back into her adjoining bedroom. She picked up her long sheathed knife and secured the belt around her waist. "It would not do for you to scare them or perhaps be seen running away from Mino," Teyla continued conversationally as she retuned back into the lounge area.

Ketra looked over her shoulder, her colouring dull grey, reflecting her sad mood. Teyla felt a squeeze of sympathy again.

"This as difficult for me as it is you," she told Ketra. "Of course I would prefer you at my side, but that is not possible. Once you are older and show that you are capable of restraint it will be different." Ketra looked away, her head hung low.

Teyla was not used to feeling so much sympathy, for it was not an emotion Elite fostered, but lately it seemed all she felt for poor Ketra. It was not the dragon's fault really, the blossom courtyard must have seemed like pure heaven to her.

A buzz rang out from a nearby panel, and Ketra looked round with more interest. "And suddenly you do not look so sorry for yourself," Teyla remarked as she headed for the panel.

"Yes?" She spoke formally as she pressed the communication button.

"Honoured Elite, Hakon reports that visitor Major Sheppard and the group from Atlantis have arrived," the tinny voice replied. "They are in the gathering courtyard."

"Thank you," Teyla replied and released the button.

This morning at first meal, Father had agreed that she and John should talk over military matters separate from the others again, that it was wise to keep Elite matters apart from the trading discussion. Teyla had already stated as much, but she had been surprised that Father had given up on his insistence that she be as present as possible with the new visitors and old who were gathering for the wedding. It appeared that Father had finally accepted that Mr Woolsey would be best to handle such things with him, and to allow John to meet with her about military matters separately. It was a relief in all honesty, and she knew that John too found such long polite discussions tiresome. She smiled at remembering some of his quiet comments about that yesterday. She was looking forward to meeting with him again today, and she had mentioned to the others over the first meal that she had begun to train John in bantos, if still wished it so today.

She turned back to Ketra, who was looking up at her with a curious expression, her colour more silver now. Teyla was tempted to take Ketra with her, knowing that John and Ketra had accepted each other the last time they had met, but Teyla would have to keep a precise eye on Ketra. No, she would keep with her plan. If Ketra were to wander off, as she had been allowed to do before the blossom incident, there were far too many official people around that she could scare and create a political incident. It would be best if she remained here, however, perhaps today, Teyla could lighten the boredom slightly. She had been saving this plan for the day of the carnival, feeling that Ketra could have a gift as compensation for having to remain inside and miss the carnival.

"I was planning to wait to give you this," Teyla said as she moved towards the main door. Outside, just down the corridor, two potted plants sat on a low table. Teyla had left them there so that they could sit in the gentle sunlight that filtered through from a window overlooking the table and be safe away from Ketra. Teyla picked up one plant and returned to her quarters. The door open, she stepped through and closed it behind her.

"You may have this for today, because you have been well behaved," Teyla stated as she put the potted blossom plant down on the rug next to Ketra.

Ketra looked from the pale pink petals to Teyla.

"You may eat this one," Teyla clarified. She had no idea how much Ketra understood, but it was good that Ketra hadn't just launched an immediate attack on these flowers.

Ketra did not appear all that appeased by the gift though. Her eyes shifted to the door behind Teyla and back again, the question clear.

"No, you will still have to remain inside," Teyla said more softly and Ketra sighed heavily, her head lowering again.

Giving in to the sympathy, and rather amused at Ketra's theatrics, Teyla knelt down and stroked both hands over Ketra's head.

"I am sorry, but you can rest and enjoy the sunshine in here." They had already visited the Elite training facility this morning, and Ketra had had plenty of time to run through the forest on the walk to and from the portal. Unfortunately, she didn't tire quite as much as she had as a youngling, which meant that she may very well grow bored locked in Teyla's quarters. Teyla had supplied several toys, but as she grew Ketra appeared less interested in them. Teyla suspected that if Ketra did escape again, it would be more to stave off boredom than insubordination. That was the problem.

Ketra's colouring shifted to silver again, now that she had Teyla's loving attention, and once again the orange eyes lifted hopefully to Teyla's.

"I will see you very soon," Teyla said as she stood up, the urge to give in to Ketra growing stronger. "Once Zabetha's wedding has passed, I promise you will have more freedom to walk with me again. We will be rejoining the Sythus soon enough."

She turned away from Ketra with that, and moved to the door. As she pulled it open slightly, she looked back to see that Ketra had remained sat on the rug and was idly nibbling on a blossom from the potted shrub, but hardly with any enthusiasm.

"Be good," Teyla instructed before exiting her quarters.

It was always quiet in the family areas during the day, for Father and Zabetha's attention was focused on their duties. There were no guards to watch Teyla as she made her way to the staircase and proceeded down the steps, checking over her appearance as she did so. She had been planning to head to the bantos courtyard anyway, but it appeared that John's arrival had been well timed. She would fetch him from the gathering courtyard, though perhaps rescuing him might be a more appropriate description.

Smiling to herself, she exited the staircase on the ground floor and made her way along a corridor and through the family gathering space. The faintest scent of the mid meal still lingered. Teyla had missed it having not long returned from the training facility. Suring that visit she had observed Elite training younglings no older than ten yearly cycles on the basics of grenade technology, and then she had supervised the older students rappelling from the tallest building, watching them descend through the growing sunlight of the training world's morning. They seemed able enough, several more so than the rest. Mari had been overseeing them, but had invited Teyla to assist due to a mission having taken another trainer away. After the rappel debrief for the students, Teyla had finally reached the nursery and had visited young Aki. He was growing well. If Teyla did not visit for a few days, she could noticeably feel the difference in the baby's weight. As yet he looked more like his father than Iketani, but Teyla was trying to stop herself from looking for the comparison. Aki was a unique individual and it would not do any good to compare him constantly to his deceased traitorous mother.

Oneakka had been present at the training facility, having just returned from another visit to persuade Massa to return to the fight. Massa was still in grieving for his lost love, Mera, who had been killed by Iketani' agents. Massa had not forgiven himself for not having been at Mera's side during the attack, and then he had missed his opportunity for vengeance against Iketani, as it had been a Wraith Queen who had finally killed Iketani. Oneakka had retrieved Iketani' sword for Massa, but it was a pale trophy for him. Oneakka reported that Massa was still training each and every day, with a brutal anger that still drove him. There was little that they could do for Massa other than give him the time he required. In his current state, he would be no good in battle.

Oneakka himself had seemed somewhat bored. With the Sythus not yet returned and no mission available for him, Oneakka had decided he would help with training the latest recruits. Teyla knew that the poor, already pushed and dedicated recruits, would be exhausted by the speed and standard Oneakka demanded by the day's end. It would do them all good though. Teyla had invited Oneakka to attend the carnival in two day's time, hoping that he would join Halling for the day and be encouraged to enjoy his free time. Oneakka hadn't seemed all that interested in 'fun games', but she suspected he would still attend. Si always enjoyed such festivities, but then, as Oneakka had pointed out, Si had plenty of ladies to accompany him.

Teyla smiled at that thought. She had barely seen Si over the last two weeks, once he had been certain she was recovered enough from her injury. He had visited every day before then, and had trained with her to help her regain her strength, however once her recovery was clear, he had declared that he was taking his leave time that John and Atlantis had interrupted before and she had only seen him a few times since. Teyla suspected he would be sequestered in with his 'ladies' until the carnival. She was never entirely sure how many women stayed with him when he was in Tjaru, but Teyla knew a few of them by name. They were pleasant enough, but quite boisterous women. Teyla did not choose to think further than that, as long as Si was happy. He always seemed very relaxed and strangely recharged after his leave; she would have thought he would be in need of more rest.

As she reached the doors that would open from the family area to the more official areas of the complex, she made sure to lose her smile. She turned her mind away from pleasant subjects and on those officials sat in the gathering courtyard.

Representative Garthew had arrived over a day early, surprising Father. He was a rather stern man from a world whose military was vast and had been greatly controlling over their population until the Alliance had been formed. Rosenthal was now a far more relaxed world, its military focused in the fleet and portal divisions. Rosenthal had some of the most advanced technology within the Alliance, and their healthcare in particular had been responsible for Charin's recent procedure. Hopefully, they had added many more years to Charin's life.

However, Garthew was not someone Teyla enjoyed, for he was one of the suspected conspirators whom Iketani had had under her control back when she had had plans to take control of the Alliance Military herself. She had manipulated, seduced, and blackmailed herself control of a large number of representatives within the High Council. A few of those had since decided to retire early, despite the Elite never having said a word, and of course Telson, Aki's father, had told the Elite all he knew of Iketani' former plot. The Elite had had to leave other conspirators in place though, for in announcing the truth, they could have severely fractured apart the High Council and the Alliance. And there was also the fact that Iketani had expertly hidden her manipulations, and little evidence was available that was provable. Breack, another former Elite, who had been lover and a puppet of Iketani' had been captured and was held by the Elite. His testimony was the best collection of evidence, but much of it would be unfounded unless the Elite dug deeper, only that would draw attention. For now, the Elite had chosen to keep their knowledge quiet and use it only if necessary.

The level of Garthew's involvement wasn't entirely clear. Breack reported that Garthew had not been a lover of Iketani', but that he had been open to discussions of making the Alliance 'stronger' in the manner Iketani had planned. The thought still brought a distasteful edge to Teyla's thinking, even though Iketani was dead and the Elite had survived her attempt at culling. The Alliance Military was as strong as ever, and the formation of the Military Council had at least removed the military control the High Council members had welded with little skill before. Stability had been regained and the fight against the Wraith had begun pushing forward again.

One more turn into a corridor and ahead of her two guards pulled open a large set of doors for her, and the sunlight of the gathering courtyard greeted her. Voices mixed through the air along with the ceramic clicks of cups and teapots that was so common in the complex. In the few moments as she entered no one yet noticed her, and she was free to look over the group. Mr Woolsey sat by her father and Garthew, in deep discussion. Teyla suspected that Garthew would appreciate the military successes Atlantis had gained over the Wraith. He was not a name Father would have chosen to introduce so early to those from Atlantis.

Ambassadors Jalada and Thadeu sat with two others from Atlantis, and Eustar was present too, talking animatedly, as he did, with Sitayi, Charin, Zabetha, and John sat on the far end of one bench. It was a strange moment in which John, a man from Atlantis and another galaxy and with whom she had faced great danger, was sat beside her family drinking tea. Though, despite the smile on his face, she saw already that John was not as relaxed where he sat as he was in her company. As gentle company as Zabetha, Charin and Sitayi were, they were still unknown to him and political advisors. Ambassador Eustar, though overly emotional and excitable at times, would likely enjoy John's company. Eustar was a good friend of Father's, for they had known each other many years as trading friends and then, not long after Eustar had married, his people chose him as ambassador to Athos. He and father had a relaxed bright friendship, and Teyla knew that Eustar always had a way of lifting Father's mood.

Heads turned, Sitayi and John noticing her arrival first, and Teyla made sure to present her professional demeanour as she rounded the back of the closest bench and she smiled at the large group. Garthew, Father, Mr Woolsey as well as John had all stood up immediately upon seeing her.

"Greetings to you all," she said politely.

"Honoured Elite Emmagan," Father said formally, and she detected the faintest touch of stress in his expression; Garthew did that to him. The Representative was a demanding man, and Father would likely be cautious about the introduction to those from Atlantis.

"Representative Garthew," Teyla said officially as the Representative bowed very respectfully to her.

"Most honoured Elite," Garthew said with clear honesty. His unthinking respect of Elite was what had gotten him into trouble with Iketani in the first place, as well as his own, as yet unclear, plans for the Military that had agreed so closely with Iketani'. However, he was a High Council Representative and due her respect, at least in as much as others saw.

"Will you sit and join us?" Charin asked from the left.

Teyla smiled down at Charin, who looked happily cushioned in her seat with Sitayi on one side and Zabetha on the other. "Thank you, but no. I was hoping to meet with Major Sheppard," she replied and finally looked round solely to John. "We have military matters to discuss and bantos training to continue." She made sure to make that clear, and she glanced at Garthew and saw the impression that made. If Elite sponsorship would help Father with Garthew today then she offered it.

"Yes," John replied as he set down his teacup. "I would be honoured, Honoured Elite," he stumbled slightly in his reply. She worked not to smile at the title he wasn't yet used to using. His smile was more formal, but still sparkled in the sunlight.

Teyla looked away and repeated her nods and departed, leading John away from the benches. She noted that Lieutenant Ford was not present today, and that no other Atlantis warrior accompanied her and John from the courtyard. She suspected that with only two warriors present, they were better focused on guarding Mr Woolsey. She took it also as a sign of Atlantis' trust in her that John walked out of the courtyard alone. She too, had no need of a guard, so it seemed that they finally had some time alone.

As she stepped inside again, John fell into step with her down the corridor. "Good day to you, John," she said more informally.

"Good day to you too," John replied, amusement in his tone. "Thanks for saving me." She smiled at that.

"You seemed settled enough with Zabetha and Charin. Sitayi also seems to like you, and Eustar likes most people."

"He's definitely…enthusiastic about things," John replied, glancing over his shoulder to the guards who had remained at the closed doors behind them.

"Eustar and my father are firm friends. I have no doubt that Father has told him all the details of your people," Teyla told him.

"Apparently he thinks Athosian women are the most beautiful women in all the Pegasus galaxy," John replied.

The flirtation was clear in the remark, though his voice had been level and seemingly merely passing on what he had heard. As they turned a corner into another corridor, she glanced up at him at her side. He was looking forward, pretending he didn't see her attention.

"I believe he would think so; his wife is Athosian," she replied.

John looked down at her as they walked and he smiled. "I'm sure that's part of the reason." His sparkling eyes provided the silent opinion that he agreed with Eustar's belief, though he did not say so outright.

She looked away, finding his subtle compliment both amusing and strangely somewhat unnerving. She felt the gentle stirring pleasure of anticipation, a feeling she had not felt since she had been much younger and free to enjoy relaxed romances.

"I was on my way to the bantos courtyard when you arrived," she told him, keeping away from the subject of beautiful Athosians for the time being. "I thought you may wish to learn some of those bantos basics you requested yesterday," she asked.

"Sounds good. Vako not here today?" He asked.

They turned another corner and two guards swiftly opened the doors immediately in front of them. Teyla detected the surprise in the guards; they had not expected her to be walking around the corner with a visitor from Atlantis. She knew that if she were her sister or Father, or any other member of the household, then a guard would be at her back, watching over her and the visitor. However, Elite needed no guards, no one would suggest otherwise. In many ways, it allowed Teyla far more freedom than most. Elite after all liked to have all paths open to them and the freedom to walk down them as they chose in their own way.

"No, I only train with each competitor once while I am staying. I am not allowed to show favouritism to any of them," she replied.

John glanced at her with interest. "Who would notice?"

She considered that, since no one guarded her or kept record of her comings and goings. She imagined that the guards talked to each other, but would not pass on gossip outside their circle. "The competitors would," she guessed.

"Would they tell each other if they got an extra sparring session or two with you?" John asked.

She smiled bemusedly at him and what he was implying. "It is not just for show, I want to train with each equally. All are due their opportunity, and to train twice with Vako, for example, would deny another such a chance."

"But, if you had to put some money on who would win…?" John asked.

She looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "You are not perhaps intending to place such a bet are you?"

"Me? Never," John replied looking away straight ahead done the corridor.

She smiled up at him, once again recognising how enjoyable his presence was, though still slightly new and awkward when not discussing battle against the Wraith or others.

A turn ahead brought the closed doors to the bantos yard into view and she noticed that there was no guard on duty at its door. There rarely was when she sparred here alone, but with so many official guests, she had expected one to have been placed here. It did not matter to her. As she pushed open the door herself, she noticed John had paused.

He was looking back down the corridor with an assessing frown. "Interesting way this place has been laid out," he noted and looked back at her. "It's like a maze."

She nodded as she moved forward into the covered area of the courtyard, entering in from the opposite direction to which John had entered yesterday. The open sparring area laid to the left, the sun shining down fully over the sand. Their boots echoed against the smooth floor of the covered sparring area as they entered.

"Yes, intentionally so. A way to confuse and delay Wraith when they entered the complex. However, there is a pattern to the layout. Rooms separated by corridors around them, courtyards interspersed, and the offices along the far from portal side. The family areas are towards the back and behind them a garrison for the complex's guards."

"And only some of the complex is on two levels," John added.

"Yes, and there are escape tunnels beneath that are blocked off and only accessible from the complex, expertly hidden," she told him as she made her way to the racks of bantos rods.

John nodded, seeming impressed. "But the courtyards seem a dangerous idea when darts are flying overhead," he asked as he stopped by her side. She remembered the descriptive term for the Wraith fighters his people used.

"True, but they also mean that if Wraith were sent down via their sweeping beams into those courtyards, that they were immediately in a confined space," she explained.

John nodded with understanding. "Good idea."

She smiled up at him, liking that they had such mutual understanding of tactics, and then she indicated the racks of rods attached to the wall before them. "Today, I suggest this range of weight of rods, these will be somewhat lighter allowing you to train longer, but have enough weight to work usefully."

John looked away to the racks and, as he had yesterday, he began testing some from the range she had suggested. She moved away as she removed her belt and laid the long knife aside, in the same place as yesterday, in the best location for her to reach from any area of the yard space. It was a habit she never stopped considering, even when in the relaxed comfort of her family home. She was an Elite after all.

"Do all the Elite train in bantos?" John asked as he swung round one rod.

"Yes, it is one of many fighting styles we learn," she replied as she moved back towards him and pulled out her own choice of rods for the training.

"You guys probably know every fighting style," John replied knowingly.

"Yes," she replied honestly with a smile.

"Why do you love bantos so much still?" He asked as he pulled out the companion rod to the one he had chosen.

She considered his question. "It is an excellent fighting art, and one particularly useful against Wraith, allowing close warfare, but not too close for them to reach you. And I suppose as well that I have known bantos all my life, so am naturally inclined towards using it."

"Aren't Halling and Si, Athosians as well?" John asked as he turned towards her, rods held down at his sides.

"True," she admitted as she led the way further across the covered sparring space. "Most Elite have their own preferences of fighting styles; my swords, as an extension of bantos is mine." She had never really consciously thought about it, she had simply decided early on to have the swords, and they had been so perfectly balanced and weighted, crafted to fit her hands alone. When she did not wear them, as now, she was aware of the absence of their weight at her back. Elite carried weapons at all times; it was engrained in her deeply.

"On Earth, there's a similar fighting style, I looked it up last night, it's called Kali," he told her as he approached.

"But, you have never learnt it," she said knowingly.

He gave her a pointed look, knowing that she was teasing slightly. "No, in our military we tend to learn hand-to-hand and using short knives." He indicated the knife at the small of his back that she had noted Atlantis warriors always wore.

"At a more advanced level, a small knife, such as yours, can be used along with one rod," she told him.

"It's not that small," he replied and she smiled at the comment as she took up a fighting stance.

"Since you know nothing of bantos," she said pointedly and he gave her a faintly afforded look, but then tilted his head in agreement. "I will teach you the 'basics', as you described them yesterday."

He copied her stance and she noticed that he already had his feet placed correctly.

"Hold the rods like this," she showed him her hand, palm turned up with the rod's handle in her grip. "Not tightly with all your fingers, but gripped with the middle fingers only. The others are for balance and control." He copied, and made some practice swings. "Allow the rod to be an extension of your wrist and arm. That is better."

She talked him through the basic strike movements and then deflections. He learnt quickly, watching her first and then copying with her and then he recalled it himself. She then talked him through stepping techniques and basic rhythms. It was strangely enjoyable to start with the simple beginnings of bantos. Though she often participated in bantos style fighting with Elite students, it was rarely strictly bantos and they already had a certain level of skill in the art.

As she taught John the first sequence of drills, he asked questions, 'why?' being the main one. He asked why a certain move was taught a certain way in the drills, and unlike when initially teaching Athosian children these drills, he already noticed the small details in the movements. She could of course explain to him why to turn slightly to the right, and she showed him by playing the attacker role. She taught him all of the first drills, and he also shared elements that were very similar in the fighting styles he knew, which was interesting for her, and she found herself asking questions herself.

She did not know how long they trained the drills, but time passed easily in his presence. It was good for her to practice basics and she watched with interest how he slightly adapted the movements due to his own past training.

"Make sure to keep that leg bent, John," she pointed out, tapping his back leg with the end of one of her rods. "Extend through from the spine, twist and allow the arm to be thrown forward by your natural momentum, do not force it with muscle."

John repeated his strike, muttering something about a drill sergeant that she did not entirely hear, as she circled around him. "And turn the arm, yes, better. Good. Remember, the back leg, keep it bent."

He muttered again and she smiled at the clear grumbling. "You are worse than Ketra."

He glanced at her over his arm, his jacket long discarded to reveal his tightly worn short-sleeved black shirt beneath. "You teach Ketra bantos?" He asked, clearly joking.

"No," she replied as she took up the fighting stance next to him and repeated the drill along with him. "Unfortunately she is in much disgrace here in the Governing Buildings." The drill complete she returned to the start and repeated it, John doing the same beside her. "One of the courtyards here is very old and dedicated solely to blossoming plants and trees. It has been formed and maintained lovingly over many generations so that the most perfect blooms can be seen all year round. Through all seasons there are magnificent blossoms to be seen, for certain trees from other worlds can be tempted to blossom even in the deep winter, by the care and expertise of the official gardeners here."

John paused in his drill and looked at her. "She didn't."

"Yes," Teyla reported as she started the second drill. "Every blossom in the courtyard, John. Every one."

John tried to control his snigger as he too began the second drill. "I take it someone found her before you."

"Mino is the official lead gardener. Her family have personally tended and developed the blossom courtyard for several generations. Unfortunately she found Ketra in the courtyard eating the very last of the blossoms, rather fat and happy." John chuckled again and Teyla couldn't keep the amusement out of her own voice as she swung one rod down and up in the routine of the drill. "I had already been alerted and arrived there to see Mino red faced with anger. Ketra cowered behind my legs, like she was small and young again, whilst Mino shouted at me."

"Shouted at _you_?" John asked.

"Yes, while the other gardeners held back worriedly, likely fearing that I would retaliate for what they saw as disrespect to an Elite warrior," Teyla replied as she began the third drill. "Remember to start with the cross and then round in this one," she instructed. "I of course apologised to Mino," she continued. "However, I fear very little will repair the damage to Mino's opinion and mood, even when the blossoms return."

"Can't you get in some new blossoming plants for a bit?" John asked, his breath lighter as he swung through the twist and cross, only to grumble at himself and repeat the drill from the start again.

"Father has already ordered in some blossoming plants that will be put on display for the wedding ceremony. The first batch arrived yesterday and I understand that Mino has locked them all tightly away, under lock and key, with sunlight lamps and gardeners misting them all times of the day, so that they are not put at risk by being put out too soon to tempt Ketra."

"Mino's probably got a couple of guards on the door as well," John mused.

"She does," Teyla confirmed. "I have kept Ketra locked in my quarters whenever I am in the complex, and she is only allowed out by my side and only in the family areas and when I am leaving or returning to the complex. It is impressive how often Mino happens to be around when I do," Teyla added.

"Poor Ketra's being kept inside though," John said as they started the fourth drill, and he watched her movements with more attention as this drill he found more challenging.

"Yes, and she is not happy with the decision, but I fear her boredom is a problem. She has already escaped once, but I saw her and retrieved her quickly. For a large creature, she can squeeze through small spaces very quickly," Teyla muttered.

John paused in the middle of the drill and shook out his arms, which would be tiring now for he was not used to the muscle groups required for bantos. "How big is she now?" He asked.

Teyla lowered one rod down level with her knee. "Her shoulders reach here," she reported.

"Wow, that's some serious growth spurt she's had," John replied.

"Yes, her species mature very quickly. My our terms, Ketra is in her teenage years-"

"Uh oh," John uttered.

"Yes, indeed. She had begun to misbehave more prior to the blossom incident." John smiled at her description. "But, I think perhaps it has also helped to check her behaviour."

"How big is she going to get again?" He asked.

"She could reach so high," she replied as he lowered her rod to level with her mid thigh, "though she may not. She will certainly fill out in muscle more and their tails are not quite as long in proportion to their body as when they were younger. Her growth has slowed of late, so I am hopeful that she will reach maturity soon."

"Probably all the blossoms fattening her up," John joked.

"I said as much to my father," Teyla reported as she turned and started on the fifth drill. "I do need to think of a way of making amends with Mino, though," she uttered thoughtfully. "Though I have yet to think of a way."

"The new blossoms won't help?" John asked as he copied her, starting the drill alongside her.

"They are from my father and clearly meant to repair some damage for the wedding visitors, but it is likely that few will be visiting the famous blossom courtyard during their stay in Tjaru for the wedding. The complex often has guests just purely to see the courtyard, and it has been documented in many studies."

"They'll grow back," John reassured her. "Then Mino will calm down."

"You have not met Mino," Teyla replied with a smile.

"Can I keep the bantos rods if I do?" John asked.

"I am not sure it would help, she was happy to shout at a fully armed Elite warrior," Teyla replied with a wince. She had not been used to someone shouting at her when it was not in the midst of a battle or over tactics with a Satedan.

Finally through the seventh drill, the sequence complete, Teyla lowered her rods and turned to him as he repeated the last strike and posture of the final drill, rechecking himself.

"Much improved," Teyla told him. "These are the basic seven drills that are taught first along with the main forms, then a further seven more drills. Those second drills can then be combined with the first seven, so that one person performs the first drill and the opponent the first of the second drills. They are designed to interlock, one against the other. That is how sparring begins, in a regulated and controlled way."

"And how old are Athosian kids when they learn this?" John asked.

"They do not enter into the first sparring stages until they are at least seven yearly cycles."

"Seven, great," John muttered.

"However, you have picked them up far faster than children do, and already understand far more," she offered as compensation.

He gave her a look that said he knew she as trying to make him feel better. She reminded herself that Elite did not seek to make people feel better about themselves.

"But you need to practice, if you are truly interested in improving your fighting skills," she said.

"Clearly I've got a lot more to learn," John replied, "if I'm gonna do better than Athosian seven year olds."

She smiled at his joke. "In that case, repeat the drills," she instructed.

There was the muttered comment about a drill sergeant again, but John started from the first drill again.

"Watch that back leg, John," she reminded him almost immediately. "Perhaps it was that leg that led you into that slaver's trap," she taunted, as was the way with Elite when training.

"Actually it was the other one," he responded, his unusually coloured eyes sparkling as he replied over his shoulder.

She watched as he went through the next six drills, mostly correctly. She then stepped round in front of him.

"Now again, and I will work through the second set of drills and show you how they interlock," she said.

John began the first drill and she matched timing, so that their rods met, blocking and deflecting in turn, each of the drills allowing both attacking and defensive action.

"And the second," she ordered, not allowing him a break at the end of the first. "That back leg, John," she warned as she sent out a strike towards his head and he responded with the first block of the second drill. As soon as the sparring began, he instantly improved faster than before. Now he was in his warrior's mind and the drills made more sense to him.

"Good, the third," she said as the second drill finished and she initiated the first strike. He his angled stepping worked well enough and turned the attack round, the drill now flowing into the fourth. He faltered slightly, not remembering part of that drill, so she made her next strike larger so that he would block it by instinct and thereby remember. He blocked, turned and swung round, and they were in the next drill. She didn't compliment or taunt now. She pushed the drills onwards to the seventh and then immediately back to the first, increasing the speed slightly.

He worked hard, frowning and muttering to himself the movements, as beginners always did. She saw the natural inclinations he had to respond differently during the drills. A twisting motion to one shoulder, the way he corrected his footing that told her of his natural fighting style that he had to suppress to complete the drill properly. He was inclined to pull back and send out strong fast strikes, and therefore the flowing motions of connecting movements was what he struggled with, which was not entirely surprising considering he was male and of a certain age. He was used to using his strength with speed, and was inclined to pull back to assess and then attack again. The drills forced one to keep constant action, keep moving and to complete flowing motions quickly in order to block an approaching strike.

"Do not think so much, just remember the sequences," she instructed, slowing the drills slightly, giving him time to regain his tempo. "Focus only on them. Turn, block, right arm up and through," she talked him through the fourth drill. "Move round and strike back and turn…"

The seventh drill began and ended and they were soon back to the first drill. She increased the speed slightly, pushing him a little more, but he was gaining body memory of the drills now and wasn't frowning quite as much. They went twice through them again, her repeating out loud some of the sequences for him, until finally, just when he started to look tired and his breathing was faster, she decided it was time. The first drill came round again and she thrust into it, slightly quicker than before, and he responded, flowing quicker, so she sped up, almost to attack speed. She saw him wince at the impact of rods, which told her that his grip remained too tight, but he turned and twisted, keeping with the drills.

By the time they reached the fifth, he was moving fast, flowing far better, responding more from his muscle memory, and had found the natural flow of the drills that had been designed into them. Like separate notes of a piece of music, once sped up and linked together, the drills actually made more sense and ran fluidly into the next. His form was far from precise, but he met each strike and returned as he should. His footwork was slightly slower than it must be, but he still stepped where he needed to. Through the last two drills, she threw more power in, enjoying herself immensely and deeply impressed with his speed and strength considering he had literally only just learnt the drills.

With the final strike and break, she pulled back several steps, making it clear that it had reached a conclusion. John had almost been ready to start the first drill again and looked surprised at himself as he stood ready for it. He realised it was over, his warrior's battle mind relaxing, and he lowered his arms, his breathing fast and his smile quick.

"Whoa, that was cool," he said happily.

"You did very well," she told him, honestly so. "No seven cycle child could complete the drills like that."

He grinned at her compliment.

"Have some water," she offered, indicating the jug and cups that were always ready kept in the yard.

The jug was filled each day from a small spring that was accessed from the garrison's courtyard. Each day one of the trusted few working in the complex collected water from there and tested it. It was then covered and placed in here for Teyla. However, she still retrieved a small box from her belt, which contained the tablets to neutralise anything harmful in the water. They were measures that Teyla took for granted now as an Elite. She had avoided poisoning once or twice in the past, one time she was almost certain had been Iketani' doing years ago. It had been that incident that had first truly drawn Teyla's suspicion to Iketani. Then the slave attack that Iketani' personal slave had started, which had been followed by other small moments that had only screamed out a warning to Teyla and the rest of the Elite. No evidence had been found to prove Iketani' involvement for certain, but the instincts of Elite were rarely wrong, as Iketani finally proven, even to her last breath. She had literally stabbed Teyla in the back.

Frowning at the memory, which still seemed to cause her healed wound to feel sensitive in her upper back, Teyla dropped a tablet into the jug and it bubbled away harmlessly as normal. After a moment, she poured out some of the water into two of the large cups. She had no doubt about her people, but the one time she perhaps lowered her guard… John had wiped down his forehead with a towel she had pointed him towards and he took a cup of the water gratefully.

"Thanks," he replied before he gulped some down.

Thoughts of Iketani' past deceptions reminded her that she and John may have more to talk about.

"Let us sit," she suggested, indicating the small stone bench set up against the sidewall, just inside the pillars, affording a good view out at the open sparring area. From the new angle of the sun across that space, Teyla estimated that they had been training for quite some time.

"I have even more respect for Vako now," John was saying and she drew her attention away from the darker thoughts Iketani always provoked.

It was odd that even now, days after her nightmare, Teyla still found herself feeling unnerved easily. She knew that it was because of the vulnerability the dream had reflected, her own reaction to the stabbing, and berating of herself at having turned her back on Iketani, even for a moment. She was strong and able again, and had learnt her lesson, but it still lingered in her mind worrying her. Perhaps it was because she had not returned to active Elite duty sooner, normally she would have been on a mission again, but with the Sythus having been away, and Zabetha's wedding she had remained. Perhaps that had made her weaker, more vulnerable.

John reached the bench first and sat down with a sigh, his cup of water to his lips again. Teyla sat next to him, the cold of the bench very welcome after the sparring. She slid herself back on the bench and looked out through the pillars and down the length of the sunlit sparring area. The shade over her and John was cool and refreshing and she let out a sigh of her own.

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>TBC<p> 


	14. Friendship

**Note**: Thanks again everyone who has been reviewing, you're keeping me going, especially as I was off sick from work for a few days last week. But, it turns out focusing on fanfic writing helps distract from feeling so awful, so at least something good came out of feeling so bad.

**Note2**: A special shout-out here for those who kindly review, but to whom I can't respond to personally - if you've blocked messages or are not logged in when you review, it means that I can't reply with a thank you or answer any questions.  
>So here I will say thanks to Starscape91, Wandalust, Annushka (I will be sticking to my first one-shot, you can bet on it), and Czen, and any others along the way who haven't heard back from me when they have reviewed.<br>I appreciate each and every kind word and they help keep me writing.

**Chapter 14 – Friendship**

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It was nice and relaxing sat on the bench, his body cooling down from the sparring.

From where he sat with Teyla, looking out between the tall heights of two pillars, the late afternoon sunlight was shining down into the open sparing area, cutting a sharp angle across the sand.

The stone bench and the wall against his back were both nice and cool, and worked as a balm on his overworked muscles. He hadn't had that intense a work out in a long time, not since sparring with Si. Sparring with Teyla had been very different and more enjoyable than Si trying to overpower him. Teyla had pushed the new drills he had learnt faster and faster, forcing him to think faster and faster as he had struggled to adapt to using the bantos rods. Somewhere in the middle, he had begun to find some rhythm and he felt he had really been starting to get it.

Teyla had barely broken a sweat, but then she spent her life fighting like that. He needed to remember to bring a spare shirt next time.

He looked at Teyla next to him. She sat quietly, her attention on the sunlight as his had been. It felt like a lifetime ago that they had last been able to sit completely alone together, and admittedly even Ketra had been there that time. He smiled at the story Teyla had told him about Ketra's recent exploits. He would liked to have seen the big lizard again, as long as she remembered that she liked him now. It had only been on that last day on the Sythus that Ketra had decided to be nice to John, and hopefully she wouldn't have changed her mind again since.

Thoughts of that mission, of that burning planet destroyed by the Alliance Fleet, reminded him that he was sat here with Teyla away from the politicians for a reason. Other than the personal reasons.

"I asked Colonel Carter about sharing some intel," he said into the silence.

Teyla blinked as if she had been lost in her own thoughts and she looked round at him. Her dark brown eyes seemed almost black in the growing shadows around the bench.

"And what did she say?" She asked.

Her expression seemed relaxed, but there was the faintest touch of something around her eyes, some tension perhaps. He wondered what she had been thinking about.

"She thought me talking about anything intelligent was unusual," he joked, hoping to chase away some of that darkness in Teyla's mood. It worked really well. She smiled, her expression softening again.

"I doubt that is true," she replied.

He felt absurdly pleased with that comment and smiled as he glanced away to the sunlight and then back to Teyla. He wanted to get the work talk out of the way.

"Colonel Carter did authorise me to tell you about some trouble we've been running into outside your expanding border."

Teyla's expression turned serious, her intense Elite focus almost a physical presence around her. "What form of trouble?"

"We've met a lot of worried people," John replied, choosing his words carefully. "People nervous or angry about the fact that they'll likely be part of the Alliance soon."

Teyla's expression didn't change at all, which meant that this wasn't news to her.

"On some worlds it's escalating into panic and some pretty violent rioting," he continued, watching her expression to see if this was old news for her as well.

Her cheek twitched as she glanced away nodding faintly. "We have heard as much. Populations in fear of the battle between us and the Wraith."

"It's more than that," John continued, her eyes meeting his again. "A few of our teams have been attacked by people thinking we were representatives from the Alliance."

She nodded slightly again and there was a serious frown now. John watched her carefully.

"Was it such a riot in which you were recently injured?" She asked, surprising him.

"It was just a scratch," John replied. Which was mostly true, the long scratch was healing up just fine. "And it wasn't just a few angry locals, the whole place was rioting."

"Have your people heard any specific concerns that are being spoken about the Alliance?" She asked, carefully he thought.

"Seems most of them think that once they're within Alliance territory that they'll be expected to give away their food and that you'll take all their children," John reported. "They think you're going to enslave them as payment for protecting them from the Wraith."

Teyla looked thoughtful, that frown still creasing her forehead. "Have you noticed any patterns to these comments? Any pattern to which systems are the most affected by these beliefs?"

John considered that and what it implied.

"The closest to your expanding border are the most affected, I guess," he replied as best he could from his memory of mission reports. "But it's further afield too. The Wraith have been culling more than usual, especially in the systems close to your fleet's advance. We've put it down to powering themselves up to fight the Alliance."

Teyla nodded grimly. "Yes, and also there is a certain element of punishment and intention to clear planets so that the Alliance gain little from the inclusion of the new planets and systems. That is how some Wraith Queens view our advance – as a war over feeding grounds. Some of them believe by reducing populations they are reducing our ability to fight back."

John nodded at that further information, an insight into how the Wraith saw things.

"But mainly it is to build up their strength prior to meeting our advance, yes," Teyla continued. "Unfortunately, there is little we can do for those populations other than advance as quickly as possible, however that will not solve the problem for the Wraith still have so many worlds to feed from. It is a harsh reality of Wraith strategy, and has been a common reason for population anger towards the Alliance. However, at least once the affected world is within our territory they will be protected by us from further cullings."

"It's the price of that protection that's got everyone riled up," John said. "We've managed a couple of times to evacuate some people before the Wraith hit them, but only if we know in advance and the locals don't attack us instead of letting us help them."

Teyla watched him closely. "We had heard that Atlantis is providing safe passage for people away from the Wraith's path, but I had not realised that you have been able to evacuate entire populations before."

"Only if we get enough time to do it," John replied, hoping that right now the off worlds teams were doing just that, evacuating an entire population before the Wraith got to them.

"The Wraith's tendency to keep their human herds at low levels, and that people usually live close to the Portals, works in your favour," Teyla said.

"Can't your people do the same?" John asked. "Go through the Gates ahead of your fleet and evacuate populations first?"

"Considering how vast Alliance territory is, and only growing, the Fleet and Portal divisions are already stretched to combat the Wraith. To split forces away to evacuate populations is not possible."

"Maybe the Alliance would work with us?" John suggested. "Maybe between us we could evacuate enough people to make a difference?"

"You are one city, and we are currently battling the Wraith over twelve systems, at least in the last report I studied this morning," Teyla replied.

John was shocked at that. "Twelve?"

"Yes," Teyla replied. "Even if we limit our planned advance to one area of our border, the Wraith look for weakness in other areas. We not only have to push ahead in some areas, but defend in others. You must remember that the Wraith do not work under one common rule as both our peoples do. They are mostly dispersed separate Hives ruled by separate Queens. They do merge often, but even when Queens work together then tend to battle one another internally."

John frowned at that. The Alliance's job seemed all the more strained than he had realised. "But, you're holding your own against the Wraith, right?" He asked cautiously.

She smiled at that. "Yes, we are. Our Military is strong and vast, but we too lose warriors and ships. It is a constant battle now that we are challenging the Wraith more than before. Once certain systems are claimed, there will be the chance for a pause and stabilisation, but currently we are very much at war and every warrior is needed at their post." There was another one of her cheek twitches and frown as she looked away. John guessed why.

"It's not your fault that you were hurt, and besides, you've got to be here for your sister's wedding," he told her, watching her expression closely.

She looked surprised, probably because he had guessed what she had been thinking, or maybe it was just because people didn't usually speak to Elite like that.

"I frequently have to remind myself that any of my work away from the front line is just as important," she said. "That by working on the Military Council and by helping in training Elite students, I am assisting in the fight still. Once the Sythus returns and Zabetha is wed, then I can return to the front line again."

John nodded, only then realising that perhaps that wasn't be the best thing. Out on the front line she was constantly in danger, and though she could probably fight off and kill Wraith in her sleep, he knew the reality of war. Even the very best could be taken by surprise, and no one, regardless of skill and experience, can outrun an explosion in close quarters. It sobered him. Not just with memories of those he had seen lost over the years, but at the reminder that her life was far from safe. He had almost been able to forget that while visiting her here in Tjaru, sitting alongside her on a bench looking peacefully out into the sunlight in the middle of an Alliance world's governing palace.

"You are probably aware of mass movement of some Wraith through the systems parallel to our advancing border?" she asked.

John nodded. "Yeah."

"When looking out of our border towards the centre of this galaxy, there is a large system far to the left of our advance. It has three large planets in tight formation around a red sun. That entire system is controlled by the Wraith," she reported. "Two Queens, perhaps three, have barricaded themselves into the system, controlling each planet and all their moons. The Elite believe that lone cruisers and damaged Hives without a Queen are being taken in by these Queens. They are establishing themselves a system of their own."

John raised his eyebrows in interest. "Are there Gates on any of those worlds?"

"There used to be two portals, though no one has used them recently; one on the third planet and one in orbit over the second planet."

John nodded, appreciating the intel she was offering in return. "That's got to be a real tempting target for the Elite."

She smiled in return. "Yes it is, but it is not yet a high priority for us. It will take the combined might of the Elite and the Fleet to break and disturb the roots those particular Queens have settled into that system."

John considered that and why it wasn't a top priority for the Elite. "So, maybe it's best to let them gather together in one place and get comfy there for a while?" He guessed.

She met his eyes and smiled, but she didn't nod this time. "I could not possibly confirm that," she replied.

John nodded though, because he understood; she couldn't tell him anymore than that. What she had shared would be helpful enough. McKay should be able to pick out which system she was talking about from the long range scans, and it would be blacklisted from their list. Though, John suspected Sumner would still be suspicious over the intel.

"Thanks for the warning," John told her.

"In return for Atlantis' information," she replied.

John nodded.

They lapsed into silence again, both sitting still on the bench watching the sunlight lowering through the open sparring space. A new feeling filled the air.

They had both shared what they could with each other, intel to be passed on to their respective people. It left him aware that there wasn't much they could talk about now in regards to work. He had thought their common ground against the Wraith and their shared experiences fighting alongside each other would have given them tons to talk about. However, it turned out to be the opposite. Now they were on two different sides of a line, a line drawn by their responsibilities to their people and professions. He couldn't tell her anything else about what Atlantis knew about those outside the Alliance border. He couldn't tell her which planets he had been visiting or was scheduled to visit, and neither could she tell him about Elite missions.

Though neither of them had wanted to be included in all the political conversations going on in the other courtyard, instead disappearing to spar here, they had still ended up stuck in the whole political quagmire anyway. They had shared as much as they could about work.

He looked away from the pillar to his right that he had been studying and looked back at Teyla next to him. She sat in profile to him, as beautiful as ever, but that tension had appeared around her eyes again. She sensed his attention and looked back at him. They exchanged a smile, but it felt too formal, and filled with the mutual awareness that they had exchanged as much intel as they could and that the line was clear between them now.

Another reason to hate politics.

They both looked away from each other's formal smiles and out towards the sunlight outside again. The sharp angle of the sunlight, let in through the hole in the roof over the sparring area, fell halfway up the pillars that ran along the left side of the sand. He ran gaze up the straight barely adorned sides of the columns, up to the patch of sky he could see from where he sat. A small bird fluttered through his view, to be followed by several more. He watched them reappear higher in the sky, turning, circling through the afternoon light. There was a deep earthy smell in this courtyard. It was faintly a recognisable scent of varnish, presumably on some of the bantos rods, but there was also a soft flower like scent, which he suspected was coming from the small hanging baskets suspended from the right-hand line of pillars. Small ivy like plants, with small blue buds, grew down out of the baskets, reaching into the sunlight. The birds flapped around high overhead again, and John grew in a deep breath.

"It's nice here," he said honestly into the silence.

"Yes, it is," Teyla replied in a soft voice. "I enjoy sitting here after training."

He looked back at her beside him. He could imagine her sitting here, regal and beautiful, watching the sunlight fade into moonlight, probably plotting strategies against the Wraith and new sparring techniques in her head. Or maybe she thought about nicer, calmer things when she was by herself and relaxed. She seemed relaxed enough now, though maybe some of that faint tension was there still.

"How long, would you say, it is gonna take to pick up bantos fighting?" He asked.

She looked round at him. "That depends, but you seem a very fast learner."

He smiled at her compliment. "Thank you," he replied.

"You would need to practice every day, sparring frequently, and learn the forms and other stages of drills. But, you could be proficient in a short time easily enough," she replied. They were talking again, away from work related topics. He desperately wanted to keep that going as long as possible.

"You think you could teach me some more? If you're here and we're visiting again," he asked.

"Of course," she replied seemingly pleased with his request, and he smiled with relief.

"It's nice to do something not worked related, away from the politicians," he added hoping to tease them both well away from that previous territory where the professional line of discussion had been so obvious.

She smiled. "I am not sure that sparring is entirely removed from either of our work."

"True, but just sitting and talking isn't, you know, not about work things," he offered, trying not to feel the potential disappointment if she said no to his offer. Why couldn't they train together? Get to know each other better, just not as an Elite warrior and a Major from Atlantis.

"Isn't that what friends are for?" He asked, putting all his cards on the table. Well, most of them.

She looked round at him fully. Her gaze was direct and assessing as she looked straight into his eyes. He let her look, allowing her to see his sincerity.

She blinked and her smile returned, but softer this time and the tension vanished from her face.

"Yes, it is," she said.

Thank God.

"So, no work - let the boring politicians deal with that," he announced, feeling excited and relieved. "You can teach me bantos, maybe I'll teach you some Earth things, and we'll come up with something that'll defuse Mino so that Ketra can walk around with everyone else again."

Her smile widened to show her teeth, and that lovely dimple showed plainly in her cheek. "Agreed."

John stretched his hand across to her. "On Earth we seal deals with a handshake."

She met his hand with hers and they shook on it. John resisted the temptation to hold onto her hand longer than necessary, but he let go of it slowly, enjoying the feel of her skin.

"Great, and as far as everyone else is concerned, we're building Elite/Atlantis relations, and you're teaching me bantos," he said as dropped his hand back onto his lap and smiled at her next to him.

"Which you will be learning," she responded. "I sense some great potential in your skills."

"Thank you, Yoda," John replied with a happy smile as he looked back out at the sunlight.

She looked round with a curious expression. "What is a Yoda?"

00000

It was a buzz from the communications panel that alerted Teyla to the time.

After having sat talking for some time, she had persuaded John back into some training. Rather than more drills, she had begun teaching him the first form. She had already identified flowing movements to be something that needed attention in his skill set, so the forms would be the best way for him to improve. They were long combined sets of movements with the rods, covering all basic attacks and defences, but arranged in a long continuous flow. It taught precision, as well as how to link long series of movements together without stopping, and when perfected it would also promote a clear calm mind whilst training.

She had taught him the first half of the first form, and he was recalling it well enough, but she could tell that his arms were tiring and his attention was wavering, so the buzzing announcement over the panel was a good excuse to stop. As she trod towards the panel, she noted that the afternoon sunlight now barely reached inside the sparring area.

She pressed a button on the panel to display the announcement and saw that the call to late meal had been sent. It was being served out in the gathering courtyard, which implied to her that everyone was well settled in that space. It would also mean that she should really sit with the 'politicians' to enjoy a meal, or else eat alone.

"Late meal is being served back out in the gathering courtyard," she announced to John as she walked past him towards the racks of rods.

"Thank God," John muttered as he lowered his arms, but he was smiling. He really seemed to have enjoyed learning, and she had not lied when she had told him she felt he had potential in the art.

"Are you so eager to rejoin the politician talk?" She asked as he joined her at the racks. He picked up one of the cloths and wiped down one rod before sliding it back into its place.

"I never thought I would, but my arms are killing me," he admitted.

She was pleased that they had been able to remain in the bantos courtyard. After exchanging information on the Wraith and the situation beyond the Alliance border, she had felt an uncomfortable distance form between them. However, he had suggested that they set aside talk of their work and instead simply enjoy their friendship. It had been an unexpected and pleasing offer, which she had gladly accepted.

She supposed that they had had a friendship of sorts before now, but it had been one forged in battle experiences. As an Elite, she was careful in creating friendships, for the life of an Elite was so dangerous. She had to be very careful whom she trusted, but she also knew how fleeting life could be. Elite tended to maintain friendships only within their own ranks, for they all understood the danger and potential loss to be felt when living a life hunting Wraith. However, this friendship with John was different. It was unusual, but also easily enjoyable, once the area of politics had been removed. He was good company and she had thoroughly enjoyed teaching him bantos today. Why could she not enjoy a friendship with John?

What had surprised her today was that they had been left alone all afternoon. She had expected Father to have appeared at some point. He always strove to check on every guest and she thought he would like the opportunity to speak alone with John. However, Father had not visited, and neither had Charin. When they were both in Tjaru, Charin nearly always visited her in the bantos courtyard. Charin liked to sit on a side bench and talk with her as she trained or sparred. Charin had also seemed curious about John and the others from Atlantis, so Teyla had expected her to visit. However, strangely, there had been no visitors today, even briefly.

Not that Teyla was complaining, for she had enjoyed her time alone with John, and especially the fact that she did not feel she had to always be the Elite warrior in his presence. He had a way of making her smile and feel at ease, and the gentle flirtation between them had been as light and playful as the pressure of the day.

She was reluctant to leave the bantos yard, but both of them were hungry and had to return to the others sooner or later.

"You're going to join us to eat, right? Don't leave me alone with them," John asked and then begged.

"I will eat with you all," she agreed as she slid her rods back home. "I would not want to leave you defenceless against the fearsome politicians."

He grinned as he pulled his jacket back on. "Honourable Elite," he muttered.

She paused in securing her belt around her middle, and gave him a pointed look. It was surprising to hear someone teasing her about her status, but oddly refreshing. She knew it was playful from him and not a sign of disrespect, and she trusted that he would not speak the same way with anyone else from the Elite or Alliance.

"If you push me too much, I will simply return to 'beating you up' in our next training session," she responded as she adjusted her knife at her back more comfortably, sitting the blade so it was easy to draw.

"I'll be good," he promised as together they proceeded towards the far door. "Thanks for today," he added just as they reached the exit. "It's been fun."

"I agree," she replied honestly, pleased that he too had enjoyed their time together.

She pushed open the door and they turned into the corridor beyond, back into the maze of corridors.

"How do you keep track of which corridor you're in?" John asked frowning at a junction they passed through.

"Experience, the décor, and the vases are also helpful," she informed him, gesturing to a blue and white vase sat in a small alcove set into the wall. Today, pure white and yellow flowers decorated most of the complex, the colours of the marriage ceremony, symbolising new beginnings.

"I take it Mino is in charge of the vases?" John asked quietly, leaning closer as if nervous Mino might overhead somehow.

Teyla smiled. "She oversees them, but they are prepared by lower ranks of the gardeners."

"Ranks? Is that her term or an Elite one?" John asked with a smile.

"The traditional term I believe," Teyla replied. "Perhaps it suggests that the lead gardeners before Mino were equally as strict and protective of their work." She had not thought of it before now.

They turned into the next corridor and she smiled as John paused as he noted the vase to one side.

"What is it about the vases that tells you where you are? The colour? The flowers in them?" He asked.

"I am sure you will work it out if you visit more often," Teyla replied with playful challenge.

"No hints?" He asked.

Teyla held her silence, smiling, but then heard other voices. As they turned the last corner back towards the gathering courtyard, Zabetha and Rhakshar came into view. Rhakshar had arrived in Tjaru.

"Who's that?" John asked quietly.

"That is Rhakshar, Zabetha's future husband," she replied quietly as they walked up the corridor towards the doors out of which the couple had already disappeared. The guards, having seen Teyla and John approach, kept the doors open, which allowed in the scent of freshly cooked food and the smell of the large evening candles that were burnt in the courtyard for light and to keep insects away.

"Ah," John said with knowing interest.

Teyla recalled that she had told John about her opinions of Rhakshar, that there was something about him that she was not entirely sure about. He was polite and seemingly nice enough, but there was something about the way that he looked at her. He was never disrespectful, nor was his gaze the one of a nervous liar fearful an Elite would see their truth. What she sensed was something she could not identity, but she was certain that it was there. Something he was withholding from them, or perhaps just from her. She had looked further into his history using the access of an Elite, since Rhakshar's marriage to her sister would give him an unofficial yet noticed connection with the Elite. She had found nothing negative about him.

Both Zabetha and Rhakshar had agreed to the marriage contract for political reasons, but both now seemed very enamoured with each other. Father thought well of Rhakshar, as did Charin, so Teyla had made sure to keep her continuing concerns to herself, though Zabetha stated otherwise. Apparently, Teyla was not as good at hiding her hostility as she thought she was, though she felt that was understandable given her profession. It would be interesting to see how John viewed Rhakshar.

They had reached the open doorway to the gathering courtyard and she stepped outside with John. Everyone seemed very much at ease, all talking and relaxed as they were introduced to Rhakshar. Almost everyone already had full plates of food in their hands or on their laps, and she glanced round with interest as everyone greeted Rhakshar. He was smiling and polite as always. He was a strongly built man, naturally muscular as if he was a warrior, yet he had a calm quiet way about him. Teyla wondered if it was that strange combination that made her suspicious of him.

She and John were spotted and Father gestured to them from where he stood before Rhakshar.

"And may I introduce Major John Sheppard, also of Atlantis," Father said with a bright smile, he was far more relaxed than he had been earlier. "Major Sheppard, may I introduce, Rhakshar, soon to be husband to Zabetha."

John moved forward and extended his hand to Rhakshar, who was reaching for it in turn. Teyla was sure that Zabetha would have briefed Rhakshar on the Earth greeting.

"Pleased to meet you," John said politely.

"And to greet you in turn, Major Sheppard," Rhakshar replied with a smile. "I am fortunate to have the opportunity to meet you all ahead of the wedding."

"Congratulations by the way," John replied, still smiling as he and Rhakshar dropped hands.

"Thank you," Rhakshar replied with a smile. He then turned his attention to Teyla and he bowed his head respectfully, as he always did. "Honoured Elite Emmagan, greetings to you."

"Rhakshar," she greeting in response. "It is good that you are now here for the wedding." She heard the possible misinterpretation of her words as she spoke, and already she saw Zabetha's expression darken faintly from where she stood almost pressed up to Rhakshar's side.

"Yes, I too am greatly pleased that Rhakshar has been able to complete his important duties to arrive early," Zabetha added, turning her smile up to Rhakshar. To anyone else, she probably sounded polite and normal, but Teyla heard the reprimand in her voice.

"Well, it's nice to meet you," John said. "We saw everything being set up outside the city for the big carnival in a couple of days."

Teyla was slightly surprised at John's quick continuation of the conversation, for he had implied that he was not very good at such talk. She subtly glanced at him beside her, studying how he reacted to Rhakshar.

"Yes, indeed. It is wonderful that our marriage can be a source of so much enjoyment for so many," Rhakshar replied. "Though, I am glad that I have not been involved in the organising of so many people."

"Do not lessen your involvement, Rhakshar," Zabetha told him. "Rhakshar's family rule a large mining corporation that works across several moons of Xinda, his home world."

"Mining, huh?" John asked. "I bet there's a lot of money in that."

"Yes, it can be lucrative," Rhakshar replied. "The resource deposits are difficult to reach and the processing is rather convoluted, but the final product is of a high quality and traded throughout the Alliance."

John took a breath to ask more, surprising Teyla again, but Zabetha interrupted. "Let us gather some food before we talk further, I am sure you are very hungry after training, Major Sheppard."

"Yes, thanks," John replied as Zabetha led them past the benches towards the large grill and tables of food. It smelled wonderful, but Teyla held back watching John and Rhakshar talking again.

Everyone else, including Father, had sat back down in the seats, returning to their conversations and food. However, movement to her right made her look round to see Charin approaching.

"Teyla," Charin said softly so no one else heard the use of her given name. "You will sit with us awhile?" Her hand touched down on Teyla's arm.

"Of course, Charin," Teyla replied, and, as usual, found herself studying Charin's face for signs of fatigue.

"Good, then I will walk with you; I have not selected anything to eat yet."

Teyla happily walked her towards the food tables, one ear half open to John and Rhakshar talking. Rhakshar was explaining the metal ore his family mined. Teyla wondered if perhaps it could be another trading opportunity for John's people.

John glanced round as he picked up his plate, and he smiled at her and then at Charin.

"Major Sheppard, how was your training session?" Charin asked as they reached his side.

"Tiring," John replied with feeling as he picked up two more plates, handing one to Teyla but held the second one himself.

"I'm sure it is," Charin chuckled. "I still remember my first proper sparring lessons, and they were _many_ years ago now."

"Not than many, surely," John replied with a very charming smile. Teyla almost smiled herself at him. "What can I get for you, Representative Charin?" He said, indicating the bowls of food, offering to fill the plate he held for her.

"That is very kind of you, Major Sheppard," Charin replied. "I will have some of the tava wraps," she selected first.

John leant slightly closer to Teyla's side. "Which ones are those?" he asked quietly. Teyla indicated the tava wraps and Charin chuckled.

"Honoured Elite Emmagan has taught you of Athosian fighting, so I will teach you Athosian food, Major Sheppard," Charin announced and proceeded to name each of the foods and John gradually filled up her plate for her.

Teyla filled up her own plate as she listened to the lesson, Charin remaining on her right side, and John on her left. Their plates full, and Rhakshar carrying Charin's drink for her, then returned to the benches, but to the other arrangement set opposite where everyone else was sat. Father had already noticed where they had been heading and brought across some extra cushions for Charin as she sat down. Teyla noticed again that there was a sparkle in Father's eyes; he was very pleased with how the gathering was proceeding, and she suspected that he particularly liked that she was there and sitting down in the group with Rhakshar.

They settled down, Father having returned to the other benches. Charin sat down on her piled cushions, and Teyla sat beside her, laying one extra cushion over Charin's lap to support her plate that John set down for her. John then sat down on Teyla's other side, Rhakshar to his left and Zabetha beside her soon to be husband. They were sat in a corner of the benches, which placed the couple on the other bench, but turned towards them.

"Major Sheppard is learning bantos fighting, Rhakshar," Charin began.

"Really?" Rhakshar replied as he swallowed a mouthful of food. "Are you enjoying it?"

"Its fun, but hard work," John repeated his assessment of his training. Teyla sensed that he, like her, would not share much of their time together. There was nothing to hide, but there had been something private about that time, and separate from this political life. They had agreed as much and John was honouring that decision.

"Zabetha has been trying to persuade me to learn," Rhakshar told John, seeming quite talkative this evening. He had smiled to Zabetha as he mentioned her name. "And you are very honoured to be taught by Honoured Elite Emmagan, Major Sheppard," he added, nodding to Teyla with a smile.

"Yes, I am," John replied. "Though, I already had a more aggressive introduction to bantos sparring by Honoured Elite Si."

"He faired well enough," Teyla added.

"So you are repairing that damage by teaching him yourself?" Zabetha asked her.

"Honoured Elite Emmagan was kind enough to accept my request to learn bantos," John replied instead, twisted the facts somewhat.

"Did you spend much time among the Elite?" Charin asked as she delicately forked together some food on her plate.

"I spent a good few days onboard the Sythus and the Hastos," John replied.

"On the Hastos before it was lost?" Zabetha asked with interest.

"Yes," John replied carefully, glancing at Teyla. Teyla sensed the word 'crashed' in the air between them again.

"In fact, Major Sheppard was present on the Hastos' final flight," Teyla said instead.

"Really?" Both Zabetha and Rhakshar asked.

Teyla realised that she had given more information that normal. They now knew that both her and John had been on that last deadly mission on board the Hastos. No one outside of the Elite and Ronon knew the exact details of what had happened during that fateful mission though. She made sure to shield her family of any details of her dangerous life, especially Charin and Father, but this had slipped out unguarded. It had not been a breach of security to tell them, but Teyla felt Charin's attention to the comment.

"It is good to see that you survived your encounter with the Elite, Major Sheppard," Zabetha said with a smile. Had she meant that it was lucky he had survived alongside the Elite, or had she meant that the Elite had been the threat?

"It was certainly an interesting mission," John replied with another rather charming smile.

"Do your people often work with the Elite, Major Sheppard?" Rhakshar asked.

"Only twice now," John replied. "On both occasions the Elite were kind enough to help us out."

Teyla acknowledged the turn of phrase. Clearly, John had more political understanding than he gave himself credit.

"I am also sure I have read reports that the Military Fleet has met with some of your vessels as well," Charin put in.

"Yes, I think we've passed each other a couple of times. Destroyed a few Wraith ships together," John replied as if it was an easy thing to do.

Rhakshar and Zabetha both looked impressed.

"And now you have come to visit Leader Torren," Rhakshar said. "I understand that your people are thinking of trading with the Athosians?"

"Yes, hopefully," John replied. As he answered further, Teyla glanced from her plate to his on his lap next to hers. He was enjoying the food at the rate it was disappearing. She noticed that he was trying some of everything on his plate in turn.

"I perhaps am somewhat biased towards Zabetha's people," Rhakshar said. "But my own people have always traded with the Athosians, and they are a noble and respectful people, always honourable in their trades, but determined negotiators."

Teyla glanced at Rhakshar, impressed by his summary of her people.

"And of course, Athos has provided the very best of Elite warriors," he added at seeing her attention. She smiled at him, trying to be the approachable kinder version Zabetha had asked her to be, and not to scare Rhakshar as much. He looked slightly unnerved by her smile, but seemed pleased that his compliment had been received.

Zabetha touched his arm as she speared up a tava wrap from his plate. There was a quiet discussion about the exchange of food between their plates. Teyla wondered why they did not simply return to the food tables to retrieve what they wanted rather than swap food between them.

"Major Sheppard was telling me earlier about his home world," Zabetha said louder to Rhakshar now that the food issue had been settled. Teyla thought it looked like Zabetha had given her sweet grain roll in exchange for Rhakshar's remaining tava wraps.

"Earth?" Rhakshar identified, again Zabetha had clearly briefed him.

"Yes," John replied and Teyla noticed that he had almost cleared his plate. She considered offering to fetch him some more once he finished, but then Elite should not offer such things. It would be strange to the others if she did.

"It sounds similar to many worlds in our galaxy, which they call Pegasus, and their own The Milky Way," Zabetha added to Rhakshar.

"We're pretty sure most populated planets are the same because the Ancients, the Ancestors, chose or terraformed them for human life," John supplied.

"That is a belief held here as well," Zabetha replied.

"The Milky Way is filled with as many worlds as our own," Teyla added, deciding to play more of a role in the conversation.

"Are they all populated with humans?" Zabetha asked John.

"Yes, although we've met a few more alien species," John replied and began telling them about one particular species of which he had already told Teyla. A parasitical species that invaded a person's brain and took them over. This species had set themselves up as god like beings to the unknowing fearful human worlds, ruling over all their lives. John's people, along with the formally enslaved warriors of the parasites, had won over the oppression, freeing their galaxy.

By the time John had finished the story, the others drawn in by the tale, John had finished his food, setting his cutlery down as he told of his people winning over their enemies. Teyla considered mentioning to him that he could help himself to more food if he wished, but hesitated.

"Major Sheppard, please have some more food," Zabetha invited. "You must be especially hungry following your training."

Teyla felt a strange sense of resentment towards her sister as John gratefully accepted the invitation and stood up with his plate.

"Would you like any more, Honoured Elite?" He asked Teyla though, surprising her.

"No, thank you," Teyla replied smiling up at him.

"Representative Charin?" John asked of Charin next to her.

"I have more than enough, thank you. And please, call me Charin, it is less of a mouthful, and we Athosians are not strict with titles," Charin replied.

Except for Teyla, for she would always be referred to by her title, as honourable as it was.

"Then, you should really call me John," John offered to Charin with his charming smile.

Charin smiled as he walked away with Zabetha. "He seems a very friendly and polite man," she reflected to Teyla.

"Yes, he is," Teyla replied, feeling somewhat odd in that admission to Charin.

"Much like you, Rhakshar," Charin added across to him and a new conversation started up between them.

Teyla forked up some of the summer flower leaves stewed in spice wine sauce and watched John and Zabetha walk together to the food tables. They seemed at ease, at least in as much as such events allowed. As usual, Zabetha shone in this style of event and yet again Teyla felt that sensation of faint jealousy stir. She tried to squash it down, ignore and suppress it as she looked away from John and her sister only to look back again. Zabetha lived a purposeful yet peaceful life alongside Father. She had wonderful social skills and a freedom of behaviour and future that Teyla could never share.

Watching her sister smiling and laughing with John, it was perhaps the first time in her life that Teyla wished she lived a life more like her beautiful sister.

000000

Torren was very pleased with the day's events. Everyone was relaxed, conversations were flowing and even Representative Garthew seemed at ease. The High Council member had quizzed those from Atlantis extensively, though Major Sheppard himself had departed early on to meet with Teyla. Garthew seemed to have decided he approved of Atlantis, though his precise reasons were his own, but Torren would learn them when they would be free to sit and talk alone. With Garthew's approval, Torren was feeling far more confident about how his decision to trade with Atlantis would be received by other Alliance Representatives and officials.

Tomorrow would present more opportunities to follow up on that decision, for tomorrow would be the last day before the carnival, and the day after that would be the wedding itself. Therefore, tomorrow Torren was holding a large banquet for the more political side of the wedding before the more relaxed stage of the carnival. All through tomorrow, he would meet with various groups of people, welcoming them to Athos and to the wedding festivities – all the ambassadors, then the Representatives, and then the high officials of the other Athosian worlds. The conclusion in the evening would be the grand banquet to which he and Zabetha had also invited most of their trading associates as well as friends within the Alliance.

Torren turned his attention over to Mr Woolsey sat on the bench opposite. The man had made sure to spend much time speaking with Garthew, and had employed Major Lorne to assist. Between them, they had answered the Representative's questions and poised their own. Torren had remained briefly, but had moved away to sit with others, leaving those from Atlantis alone with Garthew. If they were to win support for themselves then they ultimately had to do so alone.

Torren rose from his seat now though and moved around two tables to the free seat beside Mr Woolsey. The polite man was talking with Jalada, who also smiled at Torren as he sat down.

"I hope you have had plenty to eat," Torren asked them both.

"Yes, thank you. Another lovely meal," Mr Woolsey replied.

"I do not know if anyone else has told you, but tomorrow there will be a banquet for all the officials visiting for the wedding," Torren explained to Mr Woolsey. "I would like to invite you and Major Sheppard to the banquet, if you would like to attend. There will be another High Council Representative joining us, Representative Fovea, from Xinda, Rhakshar's home world. I am sure she would enjoy meeting you, and her people are famous traders and long-term friends of the Athosians."

"We would be honoured, Torren," Mr Woolsey replied immediately.

"My people also trade with those of Xinda," Jalada informed Mr Woolsey. "They are hardworking and dedicated people, though their sense of humour is a little less dedicated," she joked.

Torren gave her a knowing smile, though he could not officially agree when playing host to this gathering.

"We would be pleased to meet Representative Fovea," Mr Woolsey replied. "As long as our presence doesn't intrude on your planned events."

"A few more people in the dining room will make no difference. It will be a large banquet. I would recommend that you arrive later tomorrow, in the final hour of the third quarter when the others will be arriving. There will be opportunities for you to meet and talk with many people beforehand, and then the banquet will be held later. I expect it to last quite late into the evening."

"I am sure that will be fine," Mr Woolsey replied. "I hope though, that after the wedding festivities have passed that we might discuss further the specifics of our possible trade?"

Torren nodded with pleasure. "Of course, though, as you say, it will have to be after the wedding. I should be able to schedule you in for the day afterwards." Torren glanced around for Hakon, who immediately stepped forward at the back of the bench. "Do I have any space to meet with Mr Woolsey on the day after the wedding?" Torren asked.

"You have the entire day free, you wished it set aside for rest," Hakon reminded him. Yes, that was right, he planned to set that one day aside to spend alone with family especially before Zabetha and her new husband departed on their short break from their work to spend time alone together in their new marriage.

"I am sure I can make time for one meeting with Mr Woolsey," Torren instructed Hakon, who immediately began tapping on his computer.

"We would not wish to interrupt your day off," Mr Woolsey objected politely.

"It will be fine, one meeting early in the day will not impact on the entire day, and since it is with those from another galaxy I am happy to make the space," Torren replied.

"And hopefully afterwards," Mr Woolsey continued, "the leader of Atlantis, Colonel Carter, hopes that she can visit you herself."

Torren smiled, very pleased and honoured by the offer.

"I would be very honoured to greet her," Torren replied.

"We are very grateful for the opportunities you have given us to meet so many of those in the Alliance," Mr Woolsey replied and Torren nodded, understanding what Mr Woolsey was saying. Torren was relieved that these people from Atlantis were so intelligent and pleasant people, and they appeared honestly eager to involve themselves in the meetings so far. That they had already ingratiated themselves with everyone present, even Representative Garthew, was very positive.

It was all going very well.

As Hakon and Mr Woolsey discussed the timing of the meeting in three day's time, Torren reached for his teacup and refilled it, along with Jalada's and Mr Woolsey's. As Torren set down the teapot, he noticed that Major Sheppard and Zabetha had risen from their seats and were moving back towards the food tables.

Torren watched them subtly, leaning back slightly to look around Hakon to check that there was plenty of food still available for them. As usual, everything was as it should be. Torren glanced back towards Teyla and Charin sitting with Rhakshar. Torren had taken the opportunity to glance at the group a few times, and had been pleased to see that Teyla appeared to be making an effort with Rhakshar, but far more interestingly, Torren had finally had the chance to watch her properly interact with Major Sheppard.

With Sitayi's words on his mind, he had chosen to leave Major Sheppard to Teyla's care today, and had left instructions for Teyla not to be interrupted. He had explained it to Hakon and Charin as allowing the Elite and Atlantis bonds to grow, but Charin had had a far more suspicious twinkle in her eyes. Torren suspected that she too saw the glances between the two today.

Torren had not missed Major Sheppard's polite manners and attention to Charin in filling her plate and carrying it for her. That act alone had made Torren all the more relaxed about the man's presence with his family. Major Sheppard had then worked with Teyla to make sure Charin was comfortable, before they had sat down next to each other. Major Sheppard had engaged in more conversation than Teyla, but Torren had seen that he had looked at Teyla more than the rest. Today Teyla had revealed more of her attentions than yesterday. Though she sat tall and regal in her Elite role, Torren had seen the sideways glances at Major Sheppard. She paid him far more attention than she did anyone else. Now, as Major Sheppard and Zabetha were selecting more food, Teyla's eyes moved to them repeatedly. Torren wished he knew how her mind worked. He saw a faint frown to her expression, which likely would be unseen by others who couldn't see through her Elite mask.

He watched subtly as the Major Sheppard and Zabetha returned to the benches. Major Sheppard smiled down at Teyla, saying something that made her smile in return, and as he sat down next to her, Torren saw that her eyes followed him, her head angled differently than normal, and that Major Sheppard said something back that made her smile wider.

Something rather soft and vulnerable stirred in Torren. It was the part of him that had yearned to see even a glimpse of affection for her and from her for another. Seeing her interact with Major Sheppard, even with only a hint of affection from her, warmed his heart more than he realised it would. Sitayi' words replayed in his mind, and they made even more sense to him now. He already felt the traces of worry for Teyla, for a heart was not something that could be defended with a sword. She and Major Sheppard were from far different peoples, despite their clear friendship. Sitayi had said he needed to let them be, to leave them be. He needed to trust that advice, and its worthy source. He suspected this was why she had spoken so directly to him about the issue, because already it was something significant to him. If what he saw between Teyla and Major Sheppard developed into nothing more than a strong friendship, one that linked their peoples, there would still be some potential concerns for them. But, he had to trust in Sitayi' words, as well as his own faith in his daughter, and the respect he was already developing for Major Sheppard.

He looked away from them, and found himself meeting Sitayi' shining purple eyes. She did not look towards the other benches, but he knew she understood what he had noticed. He bowed his head to her, in acknowledgement of her wisdom, thankful for her words, and also in trust of her advice. She nodded and returned to her discussion with Eustar.

Torren looked back to the other benches and watched as Major Sheppard and Rhakshar shared a joke, both smiling widely. Teyla was talking with Charin, and around Torren, ambassadors were discussing matters happily.

Yes, it seemed that all was indeed going very well.

000000  
>TBC<p> 


	15. The Game

**Note**: A short little chapter for tonight…

**Chapter 15 – The Game**

0000

She rocked over him, grinding hard with a strong powerful rhythm as she took her pleasure. Her gripped her waist, holding her for his returning short thrusts up into her, her full pert breasts bouncing as she moved. He ran his eyes over her arching perfect feminine body. He knew it was a tool for her, a stunningly erotic device with which she gained what she wanted – power and pleasure.

She dropped her head back, her sparkling pale hair falling back, the perfectly straight locks swinging around her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, long eyelashes against her cheeks, one cheek of perfection, the other cut through, leaving it deformed despite the skill of the surgeon who had tried to sew it back together. He fixed his eyes on that healed twisted skin, to him a sign of a warrior. It did not repel him, in fact it aroused him. He ran his hands up from her waist to her breasts, cupping them tightly as she ground harder, her mouth opened wide as she took her pleasure from his body.

He squeezed her breasts harshly, knowing she liked the pain it provoked. She gasped and her head dropped forward again, her blue eyes opening to stare down at him as she gave him a high-pitched aroused moan. He squeezed again, twisting her nipples in his palms. Her hands rose up to cover his, her nails biting into the back of his hands.

Deep inside her, strong confining muscles constricted around his erection, squeezing on and off, pulsing in a return of erotic control. He held on against it, but it was dazzling. Her control of her body was so precise and admirable. He reached one hand up to her throat, sliding his fingers around the black choker necklace that was all she wore. Her sighs and exaggerated moans rose, and she dug her nails further into the back of his hands, her skin soft under his calloused palms.

"I hear that you are leaving on a mission," Kolya told her.

His question surprised her, but it had only been that her hips had faltered for a fraction in their new circling rolling motion, that had given it away to him. Her expression had remained that of studied controlling arousal.

"A brief trip. It will not take me far from you," she replied, her smile teasing for they both knew that he would not care.

Kolya smiled up at her answer.

He could fully understand how she had captured so many under her sensual control. Her body was powerful, in every way. Some of it was manufactured he was sure; her breasts were far too lifted for her age, her skin was scented with something that held his senses' fixed attention, and her movements and given luxuries were too precise, no doubt having been practiced on many he was sure. Yet, there was more to her, beyond the narrow toned waist, the lean muscles of a woman warrior, and the lubricated readiness. Her mind and force of will was very apparent in all she did, almost as if it were an aura of power around her, and that was what interested him at moments such as this. Most women surrendered to their pleasure in taking and giving, but Iketani was taking only. He respected that, for he was the same. In this act though, both of them could take and the pleasure was the same, in many ways enhanced for him.

He wondered if she knew that, for she was clearly attempting, with each of their sex sessions, to bring him under her control.

He simply enjoyed her skill and the game between them.

"Alliance territory is a surprising choice for your 'brief trip'," he told her.

She lifted her eyebrows at his knowledge, but she only smirked as she leant forward over him, her knees tighter against his sides. Inside her, she began tightening around him again and rocking slowly, creating a deep pleasurable massage on his control. He suspected that most men could not last a few seconds of that technique. He was not most men, and he knew that fact fascinated her.

She caressed her hands up his chest and leant her weight solidly onto him. Her nails dug into his flesh as she rocked and squeezed, her nipples drawing his attention with their full ruddy colour, which he still suspected was not natural despite having sucked on them thoroughly.

"I have something I must retrieve," Iketani told him before licking wetly around her plump open lips.

She lifted one hand from his chest and trailed her nails up his throat to his own lips. She circled them with her fingertips, tempting him to bite them. He didn't, he only pushed his hips up into her, working with her slower rocking motion. Her breath caught slightly, but he couldn't entirely tell if it was a natural response or if she was acting for him. Two of her fingers slid over his lower lip and into his mouth, sliding along the front line of his teeth.

He closed his teeth together, sharply trapping her fingers in his bite. She bit her own lower lip as she watched for a moment before pulling her fingers free. A drop of blood swelled up on her lower lip as her own teeth retreated from it. He licked away the faint taste of feminine sweat from his lips and he felt a rush to taste her cleft again.

He wondered why she would risk entering Alliance territory so close to the initiation of her planned revenge.

"Send another to fetch it for you," he commanded her, knowing she would hate to be ordered.

She laughed in response, the action causing her body to grip him in interesting waves. He had not been inside a woman laughing before and it captivated him how much physical pleasure it created around his manhood. He chuckled in response and set his hands back around her hips, lifting her on his erection, massaging the waves all down his length. Oh, she was so very skilled.

"He must know that I was the one to retrieve what he stole from me," she replied to his question.

"A past lover who escaped your grasp."

Her expression shifted, though it was quickly hidden from his scrutiny for she sat upright, her head falling back again, presenting him with the full wondrous view of her body once again.

"No," she replied simply before she leant further backwards, her hands gripping his legs behind her.

Her cleft came further into his view and he ran fingers over her juice slicked nub. He circled and pinched hard, and this time her moan seemed real and it was accompanied by a more natural spasm inside her.

"This will be another part of your revenge, I think," he told her as her movements became more hurried.

"He will know that I live," she replied, her vicious grin, presented to him down the length of her body, making him smile in turn.

He circled her entrance around his penetration as he watched her face. Yes, she easily gained control of men he was certain, her body a weapon in so many talented ways.

"He will pursue you," he reminded her logically, as he rubbed and squeezed.

She chuckled, the sensation wonderful around him again and it faltered his pleasuring of her.

"He can try," she responded before she sat up again, squeezing his hand between them. She leant right forward over him, her body as limber and flexible as the predator she was. "If he does, then I will kill him," she concluded simply, her mouth hovering over his.

Kolya thought her plan somewhat foolish, but he did not tell her. When her plot came into effect, he planned to be elsewhere, for he was not foolish. If a trail were found to her, he would not be close by. He had spent more time ostracised out of the Alliance than she had, and he knew that sometimes it was best to play the role of a scurrying traitor. He would leave the station tomorrow, just before her, and whether she was discovered or not, it was likely that they would not compete in this game again for some time. There was also the possibility that this session with her could be their last.

He gripped her backside and back, and rolled them over in the large bed. She tensed under him for a moment before she lifted her knees. He had heard that Elite never lay under anyone, but he suspected that she used everything to her advantage.

He pulled from her and then pressed back hard and fast, driving their rhythm now. She shifted under him, her arms stretching elegantly over her head, her eyes closed as if in absolute pleasure.

"You must be careful," he told her, a parody of concern, and she smiled with the game.

She opened her deep blue eyes, her body shifting against the bed with each of his thrusts. She lifted her legs up higher, sliding the back of one onto his shoulder and then the other. He laid further over her and took her deep and fast. Her breasts rolling and tempting under him, he set his lips around one lifted tinted nipple and sucked hard.

He suspected that he might not taste her again, and, in a strange unique moment, he realised that he would miss her.

00000  
>TBC<p> 


	16. Playing Politician

**Note**: Well, it's been a long couple of weeks – I had a fantastic trip away, saw an old school friend get married and visited friends and family – whew was I tired when I got back! So, now I'm home and back to work, both literally and literary, got to get this fic posting again. This one is to get the ball rolling and the next chapter should be up in a day's time or so. I hope everyone is well and that those affected by the floods in the US are doing okay – thinking of you Camy.

So, here we go again…

**Chapter 16 – Playing Politician**

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They stepped out of the Gate on the night of the banquet to a very different scene than usual on Athos. There were no carts parked around the Gate or any touristy people standing in line, instead there were only smartly dressed people arriving on Athos. The only presence waiting tonight were relaxed, but alert guards stood outlining the Gate's open space, between them flaming barrels of fire that lit up the Athosian evening.

Stood in the centre of the circle of guards was a smartly dressed Hakon with his ever-present computer tablet on his arm. The two guests who had arrived before the group from Atlantis were two tall darkly dressed men, who Hakon bowed to politely. There was some quiet conversation between them, which John couldn't hear, but it ended quickly with Hakon gesturing to the road behind him. It looked like Hakon had assistants of his own tonight, for at the gesture a smartly dressed Athosian stepped forward and led the two men away towards the road to Tjaru. The Athosian sunlight was just dying behind distant trees and, through that darkening light and the firelight, John could still see the road to the city. He could make out various small groups heading up along the length of the road, and guards, stood beside flaming barrels, were stationed at points long the roadside, as they had been yesterday.

To the right, the fields were darker than the road, with no flaming barrels to light its expanse, but John's eyes were adjusting already and he could make out the two fully built stages, standing empty and still in the dark, and the long lines of the ropes that divided up the field for the carnival's stalls.

"Greetings again," Hakon said, drawing John's attention. Woolsey had already moved forward and was returning Hakon's bow.

Abas had also appeared from the guards' station, somehow always here ready and waiting for them. Tonight he was in the same somewhat smarter uniform that all the other guards wore. His buttons and belt buckle shined brightly. John resisted the urge to adjust his tie and collar.

Carter and Woolsey had both insisted that tonight there was no excuse for him not to wear his blues. So, he had had to pull them out of the dark corner of his wardrobe and press them carefully, which at least worked really well with this uniform thanks to all the starch in them. Admittedly, they looked smart, even on him, and Colonel Carter had said as much. Sumner, however, had stepped forward to assess John's uniform more closely. John had tried not to feel resentful about that, especially with all the other eyes in the busy Gate Room.

The evacuation mission was going well, but already there were problems. Lieutenant Donovan's team hadn't made contact for several hours, but then they had been at the furthest village out, persuading the nervous locals that they were friendly and could save them from the Wraith. Apparently there had also been some stragglers still out hunting in the forest, so Donovan and his team had held back to wait for them. Sumner wasn't very worried as the thick forest and the hills had already been blocking radio signals, but he had ordered one of the Jumpers to head out and help once the other outlying villages had been evacuated.

Yesterday John had felt bad not helping with the mission and tonight he felt that even more so. At least yesterday, he had gotten the chance to spend the afternoon with Teyla and exchange intell, while tonight was some fancy boring banquet, through which he had to wear a tie and his starched blues. He would prefer heading out to help Donovan's team, but there were five teams helping the evac now and Carter had wanted him at the banquet with Woolsey.

Lorne and Martins had also offered to help out with the evac, but again had been overruled and ordered to go to Athos. John glanced at Lorne and Martins now, dressed all comfortably in their usual uniforms. Woolsey had argued that they weren't needed at all tonight, that this was a polite function, but Carter had made the point that all the officials would have their own bodyguards. She had also stressed that tonight would be the first time many Alliance officials would see, let alone meet, someone from Atlantis, and therefore it was important to present the right image. Woolsey would be the polite political face and John was apparently the polite military one, the two of them presenting Atlantis as friendly and approachable enough, but Lorne and Martins' presence would also make it clear that Atlantis took security seriously and that they had the ability to defend themselves. That said, P90s would not make the right image - carrying such heavy obvious weaponry into a banquet - so tonight Lorne and Martins had left them and their tac vests at home. Lorne seemed unnerved without his P90, though John knew he had an extra sidearm hidden under his jacket, as did Martins. It would be the best they could do, for tonight was all about show, about presenting the best image of Atlantis to all of Torren's tons of guests.

No pressure or anything.

Abas was smiling widely as he approached them, his eyes dropping to the colours and medals pinned on the left side of John's chest. Abas smiled up at John and John returned the smile, both of them silently acknowledging each other's smarter uniform. John thought Abas looked comfortable enough in his.

"Abas will guide you to the Governing Buildings," Hakon was saying to Woolsey. "There are several rooms open for guests to meet, and there are drinks available before the meal. Torren asked me to suggest to you that you try to visit all the rooms if you can."

"Understood," Woolsey replied.

The Gate had activated behind them and John glanced over his shoulder to see a couple step through, both of them all dressed up for sure, and they were quickly followed by two men in simple darker clothing, their bodyguard detail.

"How many people are coming to this banquet?" John asked Abas as he led them forward away from Hakon.

"At least a garrison's worth," Abas replied as they headed for the road to Tjaru.

"How many is that?" John asked him.

Abas smiled with understanding. "There seventy seven warriors in a garrison," he replied. "Though in the Alliance Military, a garrison has one hundred warriors."

"Like to keep things Athosian here, huh?" John asked, wondering why sevens were so important to Athosians.

They reached the road and headed up the dry surface, and John noticed how much more relaxed everything felt tonight heading up the road to Tjaru, just them and Abas, with no extra guard following along behind. True, there were guards stationed along the road, but there was a sense that Torren, and more significantly Tisirus, trusted them a little bit more now.

They walked up the centre of the empty road, and as they passed each guard sentry, the guard inclined their head politely. All of them wore the smarter uniform with the shining buckles and buttons, but they still all wore the gun, knife and bantos rod at their hips.

Woolsey took the opportunity to get some intell about the other guests from Abas, and John listened vaguely as they made their way up the road and across the plateau into the shadow of the Gateway. Tisirus didn't make an appearance this time as they passed through the entrance to the city, but there were still plenty of guards and a line of civilians queuing up to enter Tjaru. The route to the Governing Buildings within the city was slightly different tonight as well, taking them along another road to the left of their usual route along the high street. This new road took them up a steeper route up the rise of the city, but it afforded a great view of the Tjaru the higher they went. At points along the route, the barrels of firelight lit the way, and stationed midway between each was another guard. The relaxed informal nature of the last few days was gone, but the Athosians were still smiling and polite as ever.

They finally reached the road to the Governing Buildings to see that more barrels lined the way, and that tonight the doors to the entrance hall were open, spilling people out into the evening air. It looked like any official function back on Earth, with people stood around in smart clothing, drinks in their hands, and making small talk whilst simultaneously watching everyone else around them. The only difference was the styles of the clothes, but that said, Woolsey's dark Italian suit didn't look out of place, and neither did John's uniform, because there were several other uniforms spread out through the group.

Abas led them straight towards the entrance hall's door, and there were more than a few curious glances at them as they passed by. As they reached the doors, the rumble of many overlapping voices filled the air, telling of how many people were out of sight in other rooms beyond the entrance hall. It was much brighter inside the entrance hall tonight as it was now lit by overhead strip lighting, the first sign, other than the computers, of electricity in Tjaru. There was more bunting hung up around the room and spotlights were focused up on the wall murals overhead. There were a lot of people in here, with the air of having just arrived as they were stood talking with full glasses in their hands.

Abas led them straight towards a long table to one side, which was covered to bursting with the drinks that Hakon had mentioned. On the right end of the table, there were stacked towers of bright clean glasses, while the middle of the table was dominated by large glass bowls filled with various drinks, possibly juice or punch. The left side of the table was covered with an elaborate range of differing bottles, mostly tall and narrow necked, and at the far left end of the table were jugs of water.

"Please help yourself," Abas offered gesturing to the range of drinks. "This is kita juice," he added as he began naming each drink in the glass bowls. "This is sweet petal juice. This one is awak concentrate that you will need to add some water to dilute it down. This is watered ruus wine," he added indicating the bowl with the darkest drink. "And in the bottles there are varying wines and brews from various Alliance worlds."

John remembered that the juice he had had yesterday, named by Charin for him, had been awak and something, so he decided to try the awak concentrate. He used the long narrow ladle to fill the bottom of his glass and then watered it down well with water. Woolsey chose to try some kita juice, but Lorne and Martins held back, playing the role of dispassionate bodyguards for all to see.

As John set the water jug back down on the table, Abas was talking away with Woolsey, pointing out several people in the crowd. John sipped his drink as he glanced around the entrance hall, which looked so much smaller with people and tables crowded into it. The awak tasted good, but not quite as good as the mixed version yesterday. He wondered what the other part of the drink had been, he couldn't remember. Maybe he would ask Charin if he saw her tonight, at least then he would have something with which to start a conversation. Woolsey and Abas began moving away from the drinks table and John followed dutifully. He smiled politely at the glances they received, but kept close to Abas and Woolsey, Lorne and Martins silent behind him.

John wondered if Teyla would make an appearance at all tonight. He hadn't had the chance to ask her yesterday because she had left the gathering courtyard straight after dinner. She had taken the time to tell him to keep practicing the bantos drills and form she had taught him and that she hoped they would have a chance to train together again. Zabetha had mentioned to her that she believed Torren was going to invite them to the banquet and Teyla had simply nodded and given John a slightly sympathetic smile before she had finally left. It had been a public and unsatisfying end to yesterday's great day with her, and he hoped to get to see her again tonight, but maybe Elite weren't ones for banqueting.

He couldn't help agreeing with that idea, if it was true, because he would much rather be working through bantos drills than following Woolsey and Abas out of the entrance hall. They entered the long straight corridor they had used yesterday, but tonight there was an open door immediately to the left. Through which there was a small lobby, crammed full with guests around another smaller drinks table. As soon as John entered the lobby he assessed the lay out and the exits were obvious. In front, two doors stood on either side of the drinks table and he could see that they both led out to a courtyard outside, which also looked busy with partygoers. There were two other open doorways off the lobby, one to each side, and they led to further busy rooms by the looks of it. Though there were guests milling about, they were mostly gathering in small groups talking away, the behaviour the same as in any gathering John had been forced to attend back on Earth.

Ambassador Jalada appeared almost immediately through the lobby's crowd, heading towards him and Woolsey and smiling. She wore a long dress with a high collar almost up to her ears. Her hair was down, but vaguely kept under control with loose threads tied throughout it.

"Mr Woolsey, Major Sheppard," she greeted them very brightly and louder than normal - either she had had a few drinks already or she was making sure others heard her say hi. "It is so good that you could make it today."

"Thank you, Ambassador," Woolsey replied. "It is good to see you again."

John reached Woolsey's side as Jalada reached them, looking them up and down, particularly noticing John's uniform. "And you both. I hope that all is well in Atlantis?"

Even though she had said it at a normal level tone, John saw some heads turn, and heard "Atlantis" whispered a couple of times.

A man stepped forward beside Jalada, his jacket of a similar design as her dress. "Greetings," he said. He stood a good foot shorter than Jalada, and he had very short blonde hair, that he had gelled up into tiny spikes.

"Mr Woolsey, Major Sheppard, this is my mate, Jaladon," she introduced him, her arm sliding around Jaladon's shoulders.

As the polite hellos were exchanged, John wondered whether it had been Jaladon or Jalada who had had to change their name when they had married, or should that be 'mated'? No that sounded wrong.

"Jalada has told me of meeting you," Jaladon replied. He stood with his glass of light coloured juice in one hand and the other relaxed down at his side, Jalada's arm around his shoulders.

"We have been very honoured to meet Ambassador Jalada," Woolsey replied. "Do you live on Athos with the Ambassador?"

"Yes, we travel everywhere together," Jaladon replied with a faint frown as if he was surprised by the question. "Does not your mate?"

"I do not have a mate anymore," Woolsey replied immediately.

"You lost your mate?" Jalada asked with sympathy.

John glanced at Woolsey out the corner of his eye, wondering what the answer to that question was going to be.

"Did we see Ambassador Thadeu in the other room?" Woolsey asked, weakly changing the subject.

John studied Woolsey's face as Jalada replied, willingly taking the new subject of conversation. John didn't see any sign that Woolsey was properly upset at the mate comment. John would put his money on there being divorce papers in Woolsey's past.

"Let me introduce you to some new people," Jalada suggested as she turned, and led them further into the lobby.

Woolsey followed, asking her something as John followed them into the room on the left side of the lobby. He turned to slip between the tight press of people to enter the room and glanced back at Lorne behind him. Lorne gave him an amused look as he kept up, using his shoulders to push through the space more than John had done. One man glanced over his shoulder sharply, only to narrow his eyes with curiosity at seeing new people, and a woman next to him leaned closer whispering something that John bet included the name Atlantis.

"Taah," Jalada called as she touched her hand to the back of a man's shoulder who was stood in a circle of people. The man turned and smiled at her. "Let me introduce you to the ambassadors from Atlantis. They are hoping to trade with Athos and I am sure Torren would not mind you telling them of your experiences," she suggested.

"I would be happy to speak of it," Taah replied and his circle of small talkers widened, making room to include Woolsey and John as they reached Jalada's side. Taah was a stocky man dressed in brown tones and, oddly, he had several flowers weaved into his hair.

"Taah is a trading negotiator of a world from outside the Alliance border," Jalada explained before going on to introduce everyone else in the circle.

John exchanged nods and names with the people around the circle, all of which he immediately forgot despite his best efforts to catch the alien names. They seemed welcoming enough and Woolsey joined the conversation easily, working the pleasantries hard.

The usual questions began – what was Earth like, were they really from another galaxy. John smiled and sipped his drink, wishing he could keep in the background like Lorne and Martins. He glanced at them to the left where they had found a spot with their backs against the wall, which afforded them a good view of the room. John noticed that further along the wall there was a woman in white robes who stood watching the room carefully, and on Lorne's other side, two men in dark clothing were doing the same. John wished he could join the guard details, and he bet he would learn more from talking with them anyway.

"Major Sheppard," Sitayi' voice arrived from his right and he looked round to see her step up to join the tightly pressed circle. She was dressed in nice deep dark blue tones, lined with gold and with the same dangling metal pieces as she had worn for the last two days. He had asked her about those, and she had explained that they were to display her family line and her profession, past and present. He wondered how many of the metal charms spelled out that she was an ambassador.

The others in the circle clearly all knew her, as they were all smiling at her brightly.

Sitayi' had placed her hand on John's arm when she had arrived and she patted his arm again as she spoke. "I am sure you have been introduced to Major Sheppard, he is a noble warrior of Atlantis who has worked personally with the Elite several times."

The polite and faintly curious smiles of the circle now changed slightly and John resisted the urge to cringe at all the focused attention. He noticed that more of the circle were studying his uniform and one man asked about his wings pinned to his chest. John explained that the wings were to indicate that he was a pilot, which drew more interested noises. He asked them about pilots in the Alliance to turn attention away from him, and hoping to gain some Alliance information he was actually interested in learning. He realised minutes later that Sitayi had disappeared back into the crowd. He looked around the room and saw that she was now talking with another group and he saw them all glance towards him with the same interested looks. It looked like Torren had employed some helpers in getting Atlantis introduced in the best light.

Jalada ended the conversation circle soon with the excuse to introduce those from Atlantis to more people, and it began a tour of visits around the room. She introduced them to almost every group, working her way around the entire room, then back out into the small lobby and into the courtyard.

The courtyard was smaller than the others John had seen; it was mostly just a paved space with shoulder high stone columns spaced around the yard, on the top of which sat plants that grew down and artistically around the columns. Mino's work was good.

The sea of faces and names continued, and along the way they found Ambassador Thadeu, who had Vako in his group. Vako was introduced to everyone and Thadeu explained that all the bantos championship finalists had been invited tonight. Vako had obviously won his semi-finals yesterday and apparently in record time. It was nice to see two more familiar faces in the crowd, and having had his first lessons in bantos, John felt something in common with the two and began to talk bantos. Thadeu reported that Honoured Elite Emmagan was training John, and Vako smiled and offered John some advice on avoiding injury while sparring. He then offered to introduce John to the rest of the finalists and John gratefully left Woolsey's side to speak to some sports for a bit. As John moved away to follow Vako, he noticed the silent war between Lorne and Martins about which one would follow him and which would stay to watch Woolsey. Lorne clearly won with a pointed glare and a victoriously whispered reminder of his rank. Frowning, Martins held back to be Woolsey's shadow.

The other bantos finalists, all but one who had been gathered in the same circle, stood out clearly from the rest. They weren't mixed in with the politicians around them, and their sleeveless shirts showed their somewhat intimidating muscular arms, which included three women finalists. They were welcoming enough though, except for one man who had only returned a clearly suspicious nod and then perhaps a jealous glance at hearing that Teyla was teaching John. The others simply offered sympathetic winces and took the chance to tell him about their various injuries and successes in the championship. They didn't seem to mind John's basic questions about bantos and seemed to like the idea that they were the source of Atlantis' knowledge of bantos. John felt far more at ease with them here than with anyone else, other than Teyla. These were the kinds of down to earth people he liked, open and friendly and they were already were teasing him about his standard of bantos. Lorne had been standing closer than before, and the finalists soon saw his interest in the discussion and included him in the conversation.

Unfortunately, Woolsey arrived too soon and suggested that they continue the rounds of the guests. John reluctantly left the bantos fighters, but with an open invitation for him and Lorne to attend the bantos championship if they wanted.

Jalada had disappeared, but Jaladon had stepped into her shoes leading them out of the courtyard, back into the lobby and into the other room. This room was a far larger than any that John had seen in the Governing Buildings so far, but despite the larger space for the talking groups, the room was still pretty full. Jaladon led them to the first group, which included Ambassador Eustar, who worked the enthusiasm for Atlantis big time for the new circle of people, but he then disappeared quickly when someone drew him away into another conversation. John bet he was the kind of guy who bounced from one conversation to the next. John wished he could bounce away from standing as the polite politician beside Woolsey all evening.

After the third group and something like the thirtieth answering of yes they really were from another galaxy, and yes their home world was almost the same as any inhabited here in Pegasus, John was really feeling the boredom kick in. Woolsey was steaming ahead though, working his political magic, and John was starting to grudgingly respect the guy. Most of those they had met seemed honestly interested in them, with only a few making pointed comments meant to be slightly hostile, but Woolsey or Jaladon turned the questions and took control of them.

What John had noticed, which Woolsey may have missed, was that he hadn't been asked many questions about Atlantis' military. Looking around the rooms, he had not missed the fact that there was a clear division between those in uniform and the politicians. Those around the room who were in uniform were talking together, or were part of bodyguard details. That tiny piece of information was vaguely interesting, but didn't last long in the face of Woolsey's current discussion about cereal growing within the Alliance.

John was just contemplating how politically incorrect it might be for him to pretend that some Atlantis military crisis had just been called in and that he had to leave right away, when Teyla appeared.

He registered her in his peripheral vision first, and he looked round to see her slipping through the busy room smoothly and without interruption. She moved fluidly between talking groups, all of them nodding to her as she passed them. She wore one sword across her back and she was dressed in a full body suit the colour of twilight, dark but sparkling with spirals of metallic thread across her body. She inclined her head vaguely to those she passed, acknowledging each of them who nodded or spoke to her, but it was clear that she was not willing to pause, and that she was headed towards John's group.

John tried not to show his delight at seeing her, tried not to stare at her gradual approach, or show his hope that she really was going to save him from this nightmare.

He tried to look casual as he glanced occasionally from the conversation about the High Council elections to her approach through the large busy room and back.

Finally, he looked round and she was only a few metres away and she met his gaze with a formal smile, but he saw the warmth within it. He was starting to realise that difference now. She had varying smiles, both formal and informal, which altered subtly depending on who the smile was directed towards. How she smiled at the more friendly Ambassadors yesterday was different to how she smiled formally to those filling the room now, and there was even a difference between her smiles towards her sister and those exchanged with her father. Her smiles had altered towards him as well, not just since he had met her, but over the last few days. John wasn't entirely sure how he saw the difference now, but perhaps it had been because they had shared time alone together, during which, he had been pleased to note, she had smiled a lot. Those smiles for him had been far more relaxed and had showed her teeth and that little dimple in her cheek almost every time. Today, her smile was very formal, but there was something in her eyes that made it warmer when directed towards him. He smiled back, in what he hoped was equally formal for everyone else, yet make it clear for her that he was pleased to see her.

"Honoured Elite," several people said with surprise and respect as she reached John's group. John had already moved aside to make space for her next to him in the circle, but once everyone else saw her, they gave her far more room than she could ever need.

Teyla exchanged pleasantries with everyone in the circle, and she knew all of them by name. They all nodded and some bowed to her as she nodded to them. They were clearly happily surprised at her presence in the conversation circle, but John could tell that a few were particularly thrilled. One guy was clearly standing taller and glancing somewhat smugly around at the other eyes watching the group. John wondered if perhaps the Elite had something of a celebrity status to some, or perhaps it said something about their own status to others if an Elite had joined their group.

"I am staying in Tjaru until my sister's wedding, yes," Teyla answered a polite question.

"You must be very pleased for the joining of your people and those of Xinda," one woman said.

"Yes, Rhakshar will be a fine addition to our family," Teyla replied.

John had finally met Rhakshar yesterday and he hadn't been what John had expected, since all he had known of the guy was what Teyla had told him. She said there was something about Rhakshar that she didn't like, but John had to admit that he had liked the guy almost immediately. Rhakshar had seemed a genuinely nice guy, easy to talk with and relaxed enough. He had happily told John all about his family and their business and answered any questions. It was clear that he and Zabetha were crazy about each other for they had barely left each other's side yesterday, and John suspected it had been the guy's arrival yesterday that explained why Zabetha had been dressed up so prettily.

However, that said, there had clearly been some tension in Rhakshar when he had spoken with Teyla. He had been overly formal when talking to her and his smile hadn't looked as natural, but he hadn't said or done anything that John had thought odd. John had concluded that the guy was simply intimidated by Teyla, which, as far as John had seen, was pretty commonplace when people talked to Elite. Though Teyla had more experience in how people reacted to her and if she thought she saw something 'wrong' in how Rhakshar was around her then John bowed to her experience. He hadn't seen Rhakshar yet tonight, though he was sure he had heard Zabetha's light elegant laugh from somewhere across the room, but he would bet that Rhakshar would be right at her side.

"My father asked that I let you know that he hopes to speak with you soon," Teyla said to John and Woolsey in a pause in conversation. "He has many to speak with in a short time tonight before the banquet begins." Even John understood that Elite didn't work as messengers, so this was clearly a major seal of approval meant for Atlantis.

"Of course, Leader Torren has more than enough guests to fill his time. We are honoured simply to have been invited," Woolsey replied to her with a formal nod of his head.

"I am sure there will be plenty of opportunities for discussion," she said to Woolsey, but her gaze slid over to meet John's as she began turning away. John almost objected; she couldn't leave already, she had just gotten here!

She had clearly seen that thought go through his head because she smiled at him with amusement behind the formal smile. It took all his skill not to glare at her, which would not have gone down well with everyone else here; just frowning at an Elite warrior would probably get them thrown out.

Her message apparently delivered, which was odd in itself, Teyla moved away. John made sure not to watch her leave, but after a beat, which he counted to make sure wasn't too soon, he glanced round again in the direction she had been leaving and saw that she was almost at the exit to the room. She looked back at him over her shoulder with a pointed look and he got the message with relief. She was offering him his escape after all.

He said something about refreshing his drink and he moved away from the circle. Lorne lifted a questioning eyebrow, not having heard the conversation, but John shook his head and tilted it towards Woolsey. Lorne nodded enough for John to see it, and turned back to watching the room and Woolsey's back.

John headed through the crowded room towards the exit, through which Teyla had now disappeared. John smiled politely to those he had been introduced to as he pushed his way back into the lobby, making sure not to look like he was hurrying to leave.

There were more people in the lobby than before, the noise level louder, but Teyla's presence through the crowd was clear. Where she walked, people were making space for her, and taking the chance to smile and nod politely to her. John tried not to find it funny when two men who hadn't seen it was her about to pass them, were pulled aside out of Teyla's way by friends, and the two men looked round with deep frowns that transformed into pale shocked expressions to discover that they had been blocking an Elite's way.

John slipped through the lobby, gaining some attention of his own due to the gossip that was probably running like wildfire around the room. No one stopped him though as he made his way to the lobby's small drinks table and made a show at looking over the rapidly emptying bowls of juice. He turned away as if he hadn't found what he was looking for and made his way towards the lobby's exit, where Teyla had disappeared a minute or so before. Several people he had been introduced to before made eye contact and smiled faintly. Clearly curious in him, but unwilling to start a conversation without someone official starting one, John was able to slip out of the lobby without being pulled into a dull uncomfortable conversation. The air was fresher back in the corridor, though again there were more people standing around here than before. He worked his way quickly and subtly as possible back towards the entrance hall.

It was much cooler in the entrance hall, and far less people stood around talking in here. Teyla was at the large drinks table, dropping one of her little tablets into a jug of water as she had done yesterday. It was still fizzing as she poured it out into a glass. John headed towards her happily, the excitement and relief bubbling away like her water, but John tried to make sure he wasn't showing any of it in his face. He reached the drinks table, stood at her side and reached for the ladle to refill his glass with some awak concentrate.

Teyla was already placing the now only faintly fizzing jug of water down between them, and John topped up his glass. He guessed it wouldn't look right for an Elite to fill someone else's glass. People might get the wrong impression about him and Teyla.

"Thank you," John said as he diluted the awak, knowing she understood from his tone that he wasn't thanking her just for the water.

"It seems to me that I spend most of my time lately rescuing you," Teyla told him, the teasing clear in her lowered voice, though her expression was controlled into that of polite conversation like everyone else tonight.

John made sure not to grin, as he wanted to, instead he kept that polite expression in place himself. "Not _most_ the time," he objected.

"By my calculations, I believe that I have now rescued you at least seven times."

John pursed his lips to control his expression, hiding his amusement at her number, but also at the feeling that clearly some of his manliness had been usurped in this relationship…friendship.

"What is it with Athosians and the number seven?" He asked deflecting the point.

"Seven is the number reflecting activity of life. Four is stability, five is that stability in movement, and six of the cycles of life," Teyla explained, though her attention had slipped away to those around the entrance hall. "It seems that Representative Garthew is impressed with your new uniform."

John glanced in the direction she was looking to see Garthew tapping the upper left side of his chest as he talked with his group, then glancing back at John. Teyla inclined her head and Garthew bowed in response.

John nodded and smiled at Garthew in turn before the man turned back to his conversation. "How can you tell he's impressed? He might be saying how lame it is," John asked as he sipped his drink.

"His eyebrows are far lower when he scolds," Teyla replied and John sniggered quietly as he sipped from his drink again.

"Were your people able to identify the Wraith held system I told you of yesterday?" She asked quietly.

"Yes," John replied. Carter and Sumner had been pleased at the intelligence, but had still understandably tested it. A small probe that McKay had thrown together had been sent through one of Gates in the system Teyla had told John about, and the results had been pretty convincing, especially since all the results were captured in the brief few seconds before the Wraith destroyed the probe. The Elite and Teyla had won some more points with Atlantis. "Colonel Carter said to say thank you," John said officially

Teyla inclined her head, in full Elite mode for all to see. Tonight, in her dark, slightly sparkling, outfit, she fitted in more with the formal outfits filling the rooms, but in every other way she stood out. It wasn't just the sword on her back, the tight braids of her hair that never seemed to change, or the high lift of her chin and her somewhat distant bearing. Her beauty shone out tonight, the overhead lighting making her skin and eyes shine, and the elegant yet strong angles of her tattoos, face and body surely drew anyone's eye. John looked down into his glass of watered-down awak and reminded himself that staring at an Elite with everyone watching wasn't the smartest move.

He wished desperately that they could both just walk away from these crowded rooms, that they could be alone and then they could both relax. She could return to her warmer smiling version as she had been with him yesterday, and he could stop feeling like he was a puppet on show for everyone. Realistically though he wasn't about to start sparing in his blues, and the Governing Buildings were full of Torren's official guests. He just wished…

There was the problem of course. What he actually wished for wasn't exactly realistic either. He and Teyla were from such different peoples, their lives so different. What had he expected to happen? It wasn't as if she lived just round the corner and he could lay on the charm and ask her out. She was an Elite warrior from the Alliance and he was a major from Atlantis. The fact that they had gotten to see each other every day recently was purely because of Zabetha's impending wedding. Teyla wouldn't have been here otherwise, or if she had, she wouldn't have stuck around. So, what exactly was he pinning all his hopes on here?

Yesterday it had seemed clearer – they had agreed that they shared a friendship and that they enjoyed each other's company away from everybody else. They had been allowed time alone, to train and tease, and to stay away from anything work related, and, in all honesty, it had been one of the best afternoons he had enjoyed in a very long time. It hadn't felt complicated by stronger feelings and wishes yesterday, not until he had returned to Atlantis and she wasn't around any more. Then the frustration and the dreams had returned, and here he was with her again, at a fancy evening party and all they could do was share small talk carefully with others pretending they weren't watching an Elite talking with a 'warrior' from Atlantis.

"I thought we weren't going to talk about work," he said making sure to keep his tone light and not at all showing the rumbling feelings the situation was bringing up for him.

"True," Teyla replied and her dark eyes moved away from the room around them to meet his again. "Though it is somewhat more difficult when surrounded by so many officials." He felt a smidgen of relief to hear that she felt the same about that at least.

"At least you don't have to stand around talking like a politician all night," John pointed out, and this time his frustration was clear in his voice. Clearly that frustration wasn't just because of the politician thing, it was because of this with her, and the fact that he couldn't just sit alone with her again. Tomorrow was carnival day and then it was Zabetha's wedding the day after, and then Teyla would be off back to the Sythus, and who knew when, or if, John would see her again. Those heated wistful dreams John had been having about her were perhaps just that – wistful and unattainable. He should be happy with the friendship they had for as long as possible, and simply enjoy her company when he could.

"I regret to inform you that the banquet itself will not start for some time yet," Teyla told him, pulling his mind back to what he had said to her.

"Really?" John asked disheartened by the prospect.

"Two other large rooms will be opened up soon, in which there are some small servings of food. There are also tables and soft chairs for people to sit more comfortably. It is traditionally a time for business discussions and trading friendships to be strengthened. The actual banquet meal will be held afterwards in the official dining room, the largest room in the complex."

"Good thing I had a snack before I left Atlantis," John thought out loud.

"Not everyone will move to the new rooms," Teyla said as she glanced around at some new some people entering the entrance hall. She inclined her head to them. "Many will stay out here to wait for the banquet." John looked round at the newcomers and guessed he and Teyla would have to move away from the drinks table.

"Perhaps you would prefer a tour of the courtyards?" Teyla offered abruptly.

"Really?" John asked hopefully, his head snapping back round to her from the new guests. A burst of excitement sparkled to life along with the relief.

She didn't smile at his obvious relief, but he did see her cheek twitch as she turned to lead him away from the drinks table and the approaching newcomers. "Though, I consider this another rescue on my part," she said quietly and teasingly.

His former frustrated and negative thoughts evaporated as he followed her away from the drinks, only to then mention that he should tell Woolsey and the others where he was going. So, while Teyla paused to speak with Sitayi and another woman, John slipped back down the corridor, through the small lobby and sought Woolsey and the others out again in the mass of people. Woolsey was with a new group now, so John headed for Lorne's closest shoulder.

"Emmagan wants to talk shop, I might even get another bout of sparring in," John told him for effect. Lorne and the others back in Atlantis had teased him with clear envy about the fact that he had been taught some bantos by Emmagan. He had rather proudly shown off the dark bruises on his shoulder and arm. Unfortunately, Ford had made sure to tell everyone about how Teyla had smacked him on the ass a few times as well, and he had refused to answer any questions about any bruises in that area.

Lorne glanced over his shoulder. "Can I come?" He asked hopefully, clearly not just thinking about security, but also about his own boredom factor.

"No," John denied with a smile.

Lorne frowned as he turned back to watching Woolsey. "Hope she kicks your ass, again."

John chose not to hear that. Happy that he was getting to escape alone, he headed back out of the room and found Teyla and Sitayi alone further along the corridor outside.

"Hello again, Major Sheppard," Sitayi said with her wide soft smile.

"Why don't you call me John," John offered.

Sitayi bowed, as if he had offered something significant. Perhaps he had.

"Major Sheppard required saving from the politicians, so I am going to take him on the tour around the courtyards," Teyla told Sitayi with amusement. It seemed that Teyla was relaxed around Sitayi and happy to tease him in front of her.

Sitayi smiled. "I understand completely, John. Such events are not designed for warriors to enjoy."

John nodded, liking that she understood, but also, for the first time, he felt faintly embarrassed that he was in all essence sneaking out of a party with Teyla. What did Sitayi think of that, because there seemed to be something in her expression that suggested she was aware of John's eagerness to leave with Teyla. He and Teyla were just friends. There was nothing wrong with a guy just innocently going for a walk around the courtyards.

"I am surprised you and your group have yet to be shown round the courtyards," Sitayi said, her eyes moving away to smile at a few people who nodded at her as they passed by into the lobby. "You will enjoy all the delights Tjaru has to offer."

John frowned faintly at that comment, which he thought might possibly hold some other meaning, and she was still smiling faintly, but not looking at him.

"Would you mention to Father where I am if he may ask," Teyla asked Sitayi, though her tone suggested that it wasn't likely that Torren would be looking for her. Clearly he had enough to worry over tonight with so many guests.

"Of course," Sitayi replied to her. "Enjoy your time of freedom from the press of people," Sitayi added, glancing up at John with that smile again as she moved away towards two people who were clearly hanging around close by to say hello to her. Despite the fact that Sitayi possibly had some thoughts about John spending alone time with Teyla, John didn't feel worried about it. There was something about Sitayi that he really liked, and he had the feeling that she was a trustworthy woman.

Besides, he was just going for a tour around the courtyards with Teyla.

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>TBC<p> 


	17. Moonlit Courtyards

**Note**: Yes, many of you are sensing that something brewing is about to happen, also because many of you know my writing by now ;) When will it happen though? Tease? Moi? Yes :)

**Chapter 17 – Moonlit Courtyards**

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John looked round to see that Teyla was already walking away, heading down the length of the corridor away from the guests. She didn't look over her shoulder, but he saw the faint turn of her head and he quickly followed, making sure not to be seen to be running after her.

There were two guards stood across the corridor ahead, subtly making the point to guests that they would not be welcome to move any further down the long corridor. However, on seeing Teyla approach they both stood aside letting her and John pass without question.

As the guards stepped back into their place across the corridor behind them, John heard the voices at the far end of the corridor rise and John guessed that the new rooms had been opened up.

"Your Dad sure knows a lot of important people," John uttered as he looked back over his shoulder.

"Yes, he does," Teyla replied. She was walking with that fast, yet unhurried, Elite pace she had. John doubted anyone would think to stop her going anywhere, let alone here in the complex, but John sensed eyes on their backs still. Some of the guests must have seen her leave with him, but at their quick military pace, John guessed people would think that it was a military matter that had them leaving the party.

That was fine with him.

"The banquet seating will be useful for you and Mr Woolsey to study," she continued conversationally. How long was this corridor? "My father, Zabetha and Rhakshar will be seated at the highest table with the three present High Council Representatives with them. The next tables hold ambassadors to Athos on one side and the Athosian ambassadors to those worlds on the other side." John nodded, taking in the info for Woolsey. "Then moving outwards from the high table, there will be other guests from Alliance worlds and then those few from outside the border."

"Sounds like a strict seating plan," John commented. There were two guards stood at a closed set of doors at the far end of the corridor.

"Yes, it is," Teyla agreed. "Other guests with no political power will be seated at the furthest tables. I am afraid that will include yourself," she added looked at him out of the corner of her eye with what seemed a mischievous look.

"I like sitting at the back," John replied. "You get away with more." She smiled at that.

The guards ahead of them stood tensely as if they weren't sure if Teyla was going to want them to open the door behind them. There was a corridor turning off to the right, but Teyla was leading him directly towards the guards. The guards took the hint and swept the doors open for her and John.

The doors closed behind them and the noise of the guests practically disappeared. The new corridor was far simpler in décor and instantly John felt more relaxed.

"I believe that my father may seat Mr Woolsey at the ambassadors table, but it is not possible for you to sit with him. Military are seated separately," she continued, but he thought her voice sounded more relaxed now. John guessed they were well away from watching eyes now.

"Where do the Military sit?" John asked with actual interest. This added only more to his own observations about the separation of the politicians and the uniforms in the party, so it looked like it extended even into the seating plan.

"We sit at the back of the room, of course," Teyla replied, looking up and round at him properly, and there was humour and warmth in her voice again finally.

John chuckled at that. "Even Torren's Elite daughter?"

"Elite do not sit in the centre of the room with many around them, even if I am Torren's daughter. Sitting with my back to the wall also allows for me to slip from the room quickly and quietly, which has been necessary many times in the past."

"So what you're saying is that though I'm not going to be sitting next to Woolsey," he used enough tone to make it clear that he didn't mind that fact, and he saw her cheek twitch with understanding though she controlled her smile. "By sitting in the military table, and maybe even sitting next to you…?" He asked, betting that would be the case, because Torren wouldn't miss the chance to insinuate to his guests that Atlantis had the backing of the Elite. Though, John's asking Teyla was more playful and made him feel just a touch too pleased with himself.

Teyla nodded that he was right in his guess, but she had made it a somewhat formal nod, but that only made it more sarcastic and he grinned. She was so much more relaxed now, just like yesterday afternoon when they had been alone in the bantos courtyard. Her smiles were wider and warmer and the playfulness was back with full force – it was almost enough to give a guy ideas about forgetting about political differences and 'friendship'.

"Torren is making another point about Atlantis," John concluded his point, almost having forgotten it as his mind had wandered into happy fanciful ideas.

Teyla nodded, meeting his eyes directly again as they turned a sharp left into another corridor and then another quick turn to the right, past a red and white vase with white flowers.

"By making it clear to the others that the Elite have worked with your people, he is explaining why he is entering into trading with Atlantis. At least for the benefit of those in power within the Alliance."

John nodded his understanding. Torren was covering his backside, which was probably smart and John, for the first time, thought that playing his own given role in all this political posturing was now far more useful.

"So, what you're saying is I'm the reason why he has Woolsey on a higher table?" John asked, more to tease than anything else.

"What my father is doing is presenting you as an ambassador from Atlantis to the Elite," Teyla replied with a pointed look.

John frowned at that. "And you and the Elite are alright with that spin?"

"It is true enough," Teyla replied. "We do not have ambassadors, but we have…" she considered the right world, "specific contacts on various worlds and systems. Even outside the Alliance," she added.

"Really?" John replied to that interesting nugget of information. Of course, they probably had a network of spies he realised. All sending intell back to the Elite quietly, probably also setting the way for the expansion of the Alliance. Interesting, however they hadn't been intending to talk shop.

"I thought we weren't going to talk about politics?" He pointed out again, though it had been natural enough and she had been relaxed in telling him.

Teyla stopped by a closed doorway and John stopped by her side.

"True, but I thought it worth explaining the seating of the banquet to you, for your people may question why you will be seated so far from those of power," she replied. John nodded. "My Uncle will be sat with us as well though. Do you remember Elkaska?" She added.

"Yeah, I do," John replied, especially as he had been thinking about the trader only yesterday.

She smiled at that as she turned to a large dark computer panel set into the wall by the closed door. "Do not worry; I will make sure that he understands that you are not my slave."

John gave her a glare, in case she could see his reflection in the computer panel. She tapped the screen and it lit up. She slid her fingers across it and a bright photo appeared, filling the screen completely.

"This is how the blossoming courtyard used to look," she said to him as she stood aside slightly.

John stepped closer, smiling as he took in the impressive picture, knowing the full story. The courtyard in the picture was full of beautiful colour. Blossoms in all colours, seemingly artfully arranged, filled pots, flowerbeds and bloomed from tree branches. It was full to bursting with life and colour.

Stood closer to Teyla, John noticed that she smelt particularly nice this evening – something flowery yet earthy.

"And this," Teyla added as she crossed in front of him and pushed open the door and stepping through, "is how it looks now."

John prepared himself, the smile already pulling at his lips, but he wasn't able to hold back the pained gasp he made as he stepped out into the blossom courtyard for the first time.

The trees, branches, flowerbeds and pots were still in the same places as in the picture, but everything was stripped completely clean. It looked like the depth of winter had hit the courtyard, and all that was missing was snow and ice. Every pot, shrub, branch and twig was bare. John noticed that even the small stalks of the smaller plants in the flowerbeds had been meticulously cleaned of blossoms by Ketra.

"Wow," John said impressed despite himself. "She does thorough work; you've got to give her that." He smiled round at Teyla.

She was stood in the middle of the yard, her arms crossed as she looked around at the remains of the formally wondrous courtyard, but he could see her reluctant amusement. "Yes, she does," Teyla agreed.

"At least there's some colour left," he offered pointing to the pale green leaves of some shrubs still standing strong in the flowerbeds. The blossoms that had hung from their bare protruding stalks were gone, but the body of the shrub had been left intact.

"I do not think that is compensation enough for Mino," Teyla replied, but she was smiling now.

"I can see why it was a shock for her," John had to admit as he reached Teyla's side and stood next to her looking around at the winterscape.

"Unfortunately Ketra's species mainly eat plants and fruit, so the other courtyards are still at risk," Teyla said. "There are some other blossoming trees and plants around in some of them, but this was the heart of Mino's work."

"It'll grow back," John assured her, almost nudging her with his arm in encouragement. He wondered if Elite let people nudge them – they probably would react with a punch or knife thrust.

"Hopefully," Teyla concluded as she turned and headed back towards the door. He followed, taking one more look back at the ruined courtyard before he left. It was nice that Teyla had shared this with him, because he bet she didn't talk to many people about what Ketra had done. However, John knew better than most for he had seen what Ketra was really capable of – killing Wraith. A few blossoms were nothing. What was impressive was the precision of Ketra's work in the courtyard.

He was chuckling again as Teyla led them onwards down the corridor outside.

"Do not laugh," Teyla told him off, but she was smiling herself and she nudged his elbow with her hand. John grinned at her, more because of the contact than what she had said. "It is a serious matter," Teyla insisted, but she was struggling to sound like she wasn't finding the whole thing funny.

"Considering what she can do to a Wraith," John said, "I say let her eat as many blossoms as she wants."

Teyla smiled up at him. "You are only saying that because you are frightened of her yourself."

"I am not," John objected.

"You feared to fall asleep that first night in my quarters on the Sythus," Teyla reminded him. They passed a yellow vase with horizontal white lines. John was determined he was going to work out the vase system for the corridors.

"She was the one who didn't like me," he pointed out.

"You sounded as nervous as a child when you were left with her," Teyla replied grinning, clearly finding the fact that he had been afraid for his life, and for certain parts of his anatomy, that night left to sleep on the floor where Ketra had been glaring at him with unfounded hatred.

"She liked me by the end of my stay," John responded.

They had passed another vase and Teyla stopped to push open another door to the left that led out into another small courtyard. This one had three fountains bubbling water down into one raised stone pool. Teyla led him across the moss outlined pavings to one side of the pool.

"This is understandably named the fountain courtyard," Teyla informed him. She turned and indicated the large windows set into three walls of the yard. "Inside there are offices, and during the day the windows can be opened wide to allow in fresh air and the sound of the fountains."

John nodded; it seemed nice. Around the windows there were trellises fixed to the walls up which tall green and flowering plants ran up to the second storey above.

"More offices up there?" He asked as he followed Teyla around the pool. The constant flowing fall of water was relaxing and the water simmered in the bright full moonlight.

"Yes, and some of the living quarters for staff," Teyla replied as she led him back towards the exit. "There are a number of staff who work in the kitchens and cleaning divisions who work less common hours and they are offered the chance to live in the complex."

John nodded as he looked back at the sparkling water before he followed Teyla back into the corridor and pulled the door shut behind him. He noticed that there was no window in the door and that it had a heavy bolt on the inside – part of the anti-Wraith security.

"How often do you stay here?" John asked her as they wandered on along the corridor.

"Perhaps four or five times in a yearly cycle, sometimes more," she replied. "Though my stays have rarely lasted as long as this one."

"Because of your injury," John asked. She seemed as healthy and strong as ever now.

"Mostly due to Zabetha's wedding," she replied. John decided not ask how her back was – she had insisted she was 'fine' even hours after her surgery, so he doubted she was going to share more with him now.

"Yes, Zabetha and Rhakshar," John said with meaning.

She glanced at him, no doubt sensing what he wanted to talk about. "You seemed to get along well with him."

John nodded, knowing what she was asking. "Rhakshar seems a nice guy, though I've only had that one conversation with him."

They turned at a pink and white vase down another corridor. "You thought him honourable?" She asked.

"He seemed honest, friendly," John reported. "Though," he considered and she looked round at him with interest. "I could see he wasn't as…comfortable with you." He hoped she would take his opinion seriously.

"In what way?" She asked as she indicated a door to the right.

John pushed it open as he was closest and moonlight greeted them again as they stepped out into a long rectangular courtyard. The sides were thickly planted with fully-grown trees, and a paved path led around a central patch of thick green grass, in the middle of which stood a large stone sculpture. It took John a second to work out why the sculpture looked familiar – Teyla had had a smaller version of it in her quarters back on the Sythus.

Teyla led the way along the start of the path closest to them, and she looked up expectantly at him, waiting for his answer to her question about Rhakshar. There was a strong, yet nice herb like scent in the air around them, likely coming from the trees close to the edge of the path.

"Umm," John considered how best to answer her question.

"Be honest, John," Teyla said softly. "I value your opinion."

Pleased with that, he replied honestly. "He only seemed nervous with you, maybe 'cautious' might be a better word."

"But, you felt he was an honest person?"

"He seemed to be," John replied with a shrug as they passed a bench set among the trees. He noticed that the scents in the air altered as the type of trees they passed changed. John bet that the courtyard was particularly nice in the daytime, but even in the moonlight, it looked like a perfect little park. "But then he's a politician, isn't he?"

"He is more of a businessman," Teyla replied. "As he mentioned yesterday, his family own a corporation that mines several of the moons of Xinda. They are an exceeding wealthy family, and in his culture that provides them considerable status, but not an official place in their planetary governing house."

They had reached the far end of the courtyard and the path now led round the end of the central grass lawn, and they followed the path round and back towards the far exit.

"But, I thought the whole point of their marriage is that it's political," John asked.

"Yes it is, and it will link his family with Athos and therefore his people with ours. A powerful family such as his will likely be offered more power and perhaps political say once the political marriage is official."

John nodded. They were walking side by side, almost in step with each other, their dark shadows stretching out before them as they passed by the other side of the central sculpture. He wondered what it meant or represented, especially for Teyla to have a small copy of it in her quarters on the Sythus, or perhaps she simply kept it as a token piece of home.

"However, Rhakshar himself will not wield much of that power himself," she continued. "He will be spending the majority of his time here on Athos. Normally in a political marriage, there are only so many days within a yearly cycle that the couple have to spend with each other; usually somewhere from half the days of a standardised yearly cycle or more depending on the societies involved. Of those agreed days, the couple must spend equal time on each other's worlds. However, that balance can also be negotiated, and considering my sister's duties in Tjaru, Rhakshar has agreed in their marriage contact that they will spend the majority of their time together, which seems to be a large number of days, here on Tjaru. Rhakshar's family work as a unit to run their business, and much of his own work can be performed via communications."

"So, he doesn't work in the mines himself," John said unsurprised, and neither at the fact that Zabetha and Rhakshar wanted to spend more time together than usual in a political marriage, as they were clearly into each other. John bet most politically arranged marriages weren't quite so successful.

"He used to, as all in his family do," Teyla replied. "It is the way of Xinda that all work, at least briefly, in the mines on the planet or the moons."

"So, it's all about the natural resources on Xinda," John asked as they rounded the end of the lawn and headed for the exit. He wondered if there was a chance that they could just sit on one of the benches for a bit, but he had no idea how long it was until the banquet began.

"Their planet, its moons, and several more in their system, are all rich in several very useful deposits," Teyla told him as they stepped back into the corridor and again John pulled the door closed behind him.

"Will Athos benefit from them?" John asked as they moved away from the door, but Teyla didn't have time to answer his question as they heard someone let out a breathless gasp from behind them.

They turned to see a young woman in a flowing green outfit abruptly stop in the junction of corridors behind them.

"Mistress!" She called to Teyla in a loud whisper, her voice breathless, apparently having been running.

Teyla moved towards her. "Meela, what is wrong?" Teyla asked.

"Mistress," Meela reported as she scurried towards them in what John thought was an anxious yet respectful way. "I believe Ketra has escaped."

Teyla stopped abruptly and Meela continued hurrying towards them, peering over her shoulder as she did.

"Are you certain?" Teyla asked worriedly.

"I am certain I saw her crossing the corridors close to the orchard courtyard. I followed quickly, calling her name as quietly as I dared. Mino is around, Mistress. She has been selecting the best fruit for the festivities for the chefs."

Teyla turned on the spot, almost colliding with John.

"Where did you last see her, Meela?" Teyla asked over her shoulder as she broke into a fast-paced walk that was probably as close to a run that Elite allowed themselves if it wasn't battle related.

Meela seemed to notice John for the first time as she reached his side, the two of them following Teyla. Meela looked surprised as she looked up at him and she gave him a smile, before she looked back at Teyla's retreating back.

"She moves so swiftly, Mistress. I cut through the orchard courtyard through to Leader Torren's study, hoping to cut her off before entering his private courtyard, but I think she heard me approaching and I saw only her tail disappearing over the top of the wall!"

"Over the roof of the family dining area?" Teyla asked over her shoulder as she took a tight left at the next junction and hurried faster down a short courtyard.

"Yes, Mistress," Meela replied sounding more breathless. "I could not see which direction she went. That wall is so high, I did not think she could jump that high!"

"It is alright, Meela, she can jump far higher than that, I assure you," Teyla replied.

Teyla pushed her way through a door to the right out into a very long narrow courtyard. A shallow pool of water, sunk into the ground and lined with short straight shrubs, ran the length of the yard.

"Ketra?" Teyla called out in a loud whisper.

"Where would she go?" John asked as he followed her, looking up at the low roof at the far end of the courtyard with Teyla. He rose up on his toes, his height giving him an advantage over her.

"Towards the kitchens?" Meela suggested from where she was holding back nervously looking back through the door they had come through. John guessed she was nervous that Mino was about to show up.

"No, she will head to where there are fresh plants and plenty of shadows in which to hide," Teyla replied before she called out to Ketra again. "Can you see anything, John?" She asked him as he walked widthways across the yard, leaping easily from one side of the shallow pool to the other, as he peered up over the flat roof as best he could.

"No, nothing," he reported.

Teyla turned and strode back towards him and Meela. "Meela, return to your duties, distract Mino if you are able, but do not risk her wrath, she will only punish you again."

Meela nodded, a flash of relief obvious across her face. "If I see Ketra I will alert you."

"If you find her, try to keep her in one place, tempt her with food if you have to," Teyla suggested as she led them back into the corridor. She paused, thinking. "Hopefully, Mino will not learn of this before we can find her."

"There are trainee gardeners in the complex, watching over the new blossoms that are locked away, they may well happily report Ketra's presence to Mino," Meela said worriedly.

"Do what you can," Teyla said to her and Meela nodded before hurrying away back the way they had come. Teyla muttered something that could have been a curse under her breath.

"They wouldn't turn in an Elite's pet would they?" John asked as he followed her down a new corridor.

"If Mino learnt that they had seen Ketra and not reported her presence…" Teyla pointed out. She looked around and then broke into a light jog and John jogged along with her.

"Where do you think she'll go?" He asked, checking both ways as they crossed a corridor junction.

"There are two courtyards that have high walls this way, both could tempt her, and the walls will provide Ketra with a sense of protection," Teyla replied as she pushed at a door and burst out into a courtyard only to pull up short. John saw why, he saw the backend of the lizard, well a tail about an arm's length, disappear over the far wall.

"Ketra!" Teyla called.

John heard some movement behind him and he turned in the doorway looking back the way they had come. Footsteps for sure. It could be anyone, but it could be Mino.

"Teyla," he warned quietly over his shoulder, his attention on the corridor. Teyla moved back to his side, the flowery earth scent suddenly strong in his nose as the two of them pressed close in the doorway.

"You can identify the gardeners by their uniform; the same as Meela wore," she whispered super quietly.

John nodded. "If Mino sees you running around, she'll know Ketra's free," he pointed out quietly.

He sensed more than saw her glare at the 'running around' comment, he bet an Elite would object to that phrase from anyone else, but John was starting to see the funny side of all this.

Teyla brushed against his shoulder as she turned, looking back into the courtyard behind them, while John carefully peered further out into the corridor, looking one way and then the other. He saw the back of someone's legs disappearing around a corner some distance to the left.

"I saw a green uniform turn down there," John reported and Teyla pushed closer, looking down the corridor with him.

"We need to reach the next courtyard, quickly," she instructed before she moved forward.

John followed, looking over his shoulder as they dashed quickly down the corridor. Nearly at the junction where John had seen someone disappear, Teyla slowed and he copied, and together they walked a sedate pace across the junction where they could be seen. Both of them looked both ways to see the corridors were empty, and once across the junction they hurried forward again.

John was enjoying himself far too much.

They quickly rounded a corner and Teyla hurried towards a door across the corridor. Oddly, a large glass window was set into the wall beside the door and as Teyla pushed open the door, John paused by the window. It looked out on a high walled courtyard beyond, into which Teyla now stepped. The walls stood at least eight foot high on all three sides, and against them dense twisted brown trees created a thicket that only deepened and extended the shadows cast by the walls. It had the creepy feel of a dead forest from a fairy tale, all pinned to the walls in the alien courtyard. John reached the open doorway and stepped just inside, feeling unwilling to step out into the rather claustrophobic yard. There were rectangular tubs holding more of the dark twisted dry trees set throughout the open space between the walls. The thickets in the tubs had grown up to chest height, and small white flowers were spotted throughout the branches, creating a monotone of colour throughout the yard. An unnerving sensation itched at the back of John's neck and he decided to stay close to the doorway, to keep a look out for Mino.

Teyla seemed unaware of the creepy nature of the courtyard, instead she was striding down the far side of the yard. "Ketra?" Teyla called in a loud whisper.

John edged slightly further into the yard from the doorway, leaning slightly forward to follow Teyla's progress through the growing shadows, and the cautious feeling itched across his shoulders. Then, something rustled suddenly to his immediate right. He snapped round to see that the trees lining the wall right up to the doorway, close to his immediate right and scurrying quickly away through its branches was a tiny creature. It looked like a tiny monkey and it skittered too quickly to be normal. The glass window looking out on the courtyard suddenly made more sense, but it didn't calm his still racing heart.

"Do not be concerned, they are friendly," Teyla called quietly to him, amusement plain in her voice, which implied that he had indeed made a small somewhat girlish noise when surprised by the little monkey.

"I thought it was Ketra and her Wraith killing fangs," John whispered back, defensively.

Teyla sniggered, but it was difficult to pick her out in the courtyard now as with its high walls and dark overpowering trees lining them, and the big tree pots, she was melding into the shadows. The twilight of her outfit blended perfectly with the shadows, and it was only the faint shine off the metallic threads in her suit that hinted at where she was.

"Ketra," she said quietly and from the tone of her voice, John guessed she had found the dragon.

"You got her?" John asked.

A burst of rustling and sudden movement to his right shocked him again and he watched as one of the monkeys jumped from the wall beside him to one of the potted trees. The flowers in the tub moved faintly as the tiny monkey thing disappeared into the depths of the thicket. It was probably all nice and pretty here during the day, but it was just creepy in the dark.

"I can hear her spines," Teyla reported quietly from the far left of the courtyard.

However, another sound caught John's attention and he glanced back out into the corridor. A woman in dark green clothes stood in the far junction. She wasn't looking towards him, but he guessed she had to be Mino from the tight aged face that was frowning in profile before she looked away in the opposite direction, perhaps to someone further down the corridor. John turned quickly back into the monkey courtyard.

"I think Mino's on her way," he whispered loudly as he moved into the yard, the feeling of being watched making more sense to him now – god knew how many tiny alien monkey things were watching him from the shadows of the trees. He rounded a large tub, looking down the yard in the last direction he had seen Teyla and, his eyes adjusting somewhat now, he could make her out three tubs away, stood on the edge of the thick blackness cast by one wall.

"Do you wish to be banned permanently from Tjaru?" Teyla asked in a stage whisper towards the far dark wall of trees.

A bubbling sound was the reply and John remembered the unusual sound – Ketra. He was relieved they had found her, but Mino was so close. That thought disappeared as he saw a darker shadow detach from the wall and jump quickly down to the floor of the yard to then bounce away to the left out of his view.

"This is no time to play," Teyla hissed to the shadow that was now behind the end tubs of trees.

"I'll cut her off this way," John volunteered, cutting across the yard between the standing tubs and then headed down towards the far end again, on the other side from Teyla.

The bubbling noise repeated itself and rose up at the end as if a question was being asked.

"We will play later," Teyla said to Ketra.

John reached the last line of the tubs and carefully looked round to see Teyla at the far side and on the paved ground between them stood Ketra.

It had been one hell of a growth spurt.

Ketra was the size of a retriever, but thick with muscle and her tail whisked back and forth as she looked up at Teyla. She would not have looked out of place in a Jurassic Park movie. The moonlight shone over her silver skin and her neck spines rustled as she moved.

John prayed she would remember that she liked him.

Approaching voices from outside in the corridor made John look back round. Mino, if it was her, was only metres away from the doorway. He thought he heard Meela's voice and hoped she was delaying Mino.

John looked back round and met Teyla's eyes through the moonlight.

"Mino is here," Teyla said down to Ketra, whose bubbly noises stopped and she dropped low to the floor, her silver skin transforming immediately into deep dark grey that blended with the shadows. The voices were louder now, almost at the doorway.

"Hide," Teyla commanded and John moved forward and ducked down behind the potted trees as Ketra pressed herself closer to the ground.

Teyla however moved away, her hand gesture reiterating the hide order to Ketra.

John pressed his back to the tub and held still, listening to the footsteps that arrived in the yard's doorway.

"Honoured Elite Emmagan?" A sour kind of voice asked with surprise. "I had thought you would be with the guests?"

"I was, but preferred some time to walk through the courtyards before the banquet begins," Teyla replied all calmly.

"I believe the banquet will be starting shortly," the voice replied and John thought he heard a touch of suspicion in it.

"I will hear the chimes, thank you for thinking of me, Mino," Teyla replied in full Elite mode.

"Of course, Honoured Elite," Mino replied. John imagined her eyes scanning the yard. He felt like he was in a movie, hiding from a Terminator.

"Why am _I_ hiding?" John whispered to himself with realisation into the darkness. The silliness of the situation struck him once more, but now he was hiding he had to follow it through, and besides he had to keep Ketra hidden from view.

Next to him, Ketra moved and he looked round to find that she was staring at him, her head tilted one way, and for a moment all John could do was stare at her long gleaming fangs protruding from her under her top lip.

"Hi," John said softly to Ketra, keeping himself completely still.

Ketra moved abruptly towards him, her skin lightening and a bubbling noise rose from her throat.

"Shhh," John whispered to her. "Mino," he repeated, since the name had had such an immediate effect when Teyla had said it.

Ketra looked away and lowered her body again, the grey colour returning. John reached out and she slipped closer, her head sliding under his hand. He had forgotten how warm she was – he always expected her to be cold as he imagined a lizard would feel. She slipped closer still, her front legs pressed against his leg as she peered nervously towards Teyla voice, who was complimenting Mino on the courtyards and how ready they looked for visitors. Mino was being pleasant enough in return, and John wondered why Ketra was so scared of her, since Ketra was super scary looking. Her chest was almost as wide as his forearm now and it was thick with muscle.

"I hope that you will enjoy the banquet," Mino was saying.

"I am sure everyone will," Teyla replied.

"I personally selected the ingredients for your meal, Honoured Elite," another voice said.

"And as usual it will taste wonderful," Teyla replied. "All of the banquet food that I saw being prepared will bring honour to Tjaru."

John rolled his eyes at all the overly long chat and looked back at Ketra, who was watching him again with her head tilted to the side. He stroked her head again and her skin lightened slightly.

"Of course," Teyla was saying. "I will see you later."

"Good evening, Honoured Elite," the unfamiliar voice said.

John waited to hear Mino's voice. He sensed the Terminator scanning. He wondered if she had heat-seeking vision. He grinned at his own weak joke, wasted even if he did share it with Teyla.

"Honoured Elite," Mino's voice said after a beat and John listened to movement at the doorway and then soft footfalls outside in the corridor.

From years of military experience, and movie watching, John knew he had to stay still for a lot longer yet. Ketra shifted next to him, but he pressed gently against her head, warning her and she stilled, not that he would have any way of stopping her if she did decide to move away from him.

John twisted where he sat and peered round the side of the large tub. There was no one else by the doorway except Teyla, who stood still looking round at the yard as if she was simply enjoying the evening. Faint light glimmered off something deep in the potted thicket behind which he was hiding, and he glanced towards the glimmer to see there were two sets of tiny monkey eyes watching him. Teyla said they were friendly and they looked more wary of him than he was of them. He decided not to push it and turned back round, sat back against the tub and stroked Ketra's head again.

He was hiding behind a pot full of monkeys, a dragon pressed up to his side, on an alien world in the Pegasus galaxy. Three years ago he would never have imagined this would be his future. He looked up as he smiled to the night sky overhead, the brown twigs of the dark trees lining the courtyard outlining his view of the stars. A couple of tiny white flowers were hanging onto the end of one high twig and he watched them waver in the faint alien breeze.

"It is safe to leave," Teyla whispered down the courtyard and John moved immediately. He stood up, hearing some startled reactions from the hiding monkeys at his and Ketra's sudden movement. The dragon bounded away only to pause and peer nervously around the tub.

"She's gone," John assured Ketra, but he kept his voice low.

Ketra slinked forward, like a nervous lion stalking through grass. John followed her, finding her caution amusing considering how she could kill Wraith.

Teyla stepped into view by the door and angled her head sharply. "I suspect Mino will not have gone far. Ketra come on," she added down to the slinking Ketra.

John suspected now that Ketra's slow movement was also because she expected to be in trouble with Teyla, but once Teyla stepped out into the corridor, Ketra hurried forward, in that same swinging motion he remembered from before. John followed Ketra out of the room, looking both ways down the corridor as he closed the door to the monkey courtyard and tried not to grin too much.

Teyla led them down a corridor and then around another to pause. She looked down at Ketra.

"Stay at my side," she ordered and Ketra hung her head slightly as she moved forward with Teyla.

"Are you talking to me too?" John teased.

Teyla smiled briefly at him over her shoulder before her more common Elite manner returned and sure enough when John followed her around the corner he saw two guards stationed ahead. They both stood sharply to attention when they saw Teyla approaching.

"There are several more courtyards that are mainly for family use," Teyla told John as if she were simply touring him round the yards.

"Including the orchard one?" John asked playing along, appearing casual and interested in everything.

"Yes," Teyla replied as they approached the guards. "The main family courtyard is just through these doors."

The guards pulled open the doors as she neared and John followed her through, Ketra keeping close to Teyla's side. This new area of the complex immediately felt different. There was more colour here, with more decoration on the walls and there were various knickknacks in alcoves instead of vases.

"This is the family area," Teyla told him as the doors closed behind them, her voice relaxed once more.

"Looks nice," John replied and he peered through an open doorway that they passed. A long large table dominated the room and, at its far end, there were stacks of electronic pads and large rolls of parchment.

"There are some offices in this area still, such as Hakon's, lining the family courtyard," Teyla said as she paused and opened a door, but held back. John looked out into one of the largest courtyards he had seen here, other than the gathering one. Two long reflecting pools of water stood at the centre and the scent of flowers wafted in with the breeze.

Ketra stirred at Teyla's side, perhaps thinking about escaping back out into the moonlight again.

"No," John and Teyla both said simultaneously down at Ketra and the dragon dropped low the floor, peering up at him both in surprise.

Teyla quickly shut the door again, but she was smiling. "I need to shut her away in my quarters again," she said as she turned. "You will have to accompany me, if a guard finds you alone here..."

"No problem," John replied as he followed her up a nearby staircase. He was interested to see what her quarters here looked like.

"I do not know how she escaped this time," Teyla uttered with frustration in her voice. "I may have to just keep her with me all the time."

"Can't she be trained?" John asked as the staircase turned at a small landing and up another flight. "On Earth we have a species called dogs, they're about her size, but mammals. They learn basic commands and are still used for hunting and guard work, but most people keep them as pets."

The staircase opened into a nice wide corridor all in a nice earthy magnolia shade. There was thick carpet underfoot and the air smelt like Teyla's quarters had back on the Sythus. There were candles set in large glass vases in alcoves along the corridor's left wall and he saw a few sticks of incense next to each.

"I am not sure," Teyla replied. "Her species are highly intelligent, but there have not been extensive testing on them because they tend to grow bored of any scientists trying to study them."

"Their very intelligent then," John commented. There was a window to his left and he glanced out to see only trees and a wall below.

"Father's private courtyard close to his study," Teyla said having noticed him looking.

John nodded as Teyla led him around a right hand corner and then stopped outside a door, and pushed it open. Ketra held back, seemingly unwilling to go inside.

"Come along," Teyla said to Ketra who reluctantly entered and John followed them inside.

Teyla's quarters were smaller than he had expected, but nice. There were two sofas with red throws over them to the right and a real brick lined hearth to the left, a thick rug in front of it. Ketra slinked over to the rug and laid down, her neck spines rustling against each other as she set her chin into the rug.

Beyond the sofas and hearth, there was a wide window slightly open and a desk just to the right. Teyla had already crossed to the window and was testing its latch.

"She did not escape this way like before," Teyla uttered.

John glanced round at the rest of the lounge area. There was a large screen on the wall to his right, and piled on a stool in front of it were some folded sheets.

"Maybe the laundry service let her out?" John suggested pointing to the pile.

Teyla looked round and frowned at the sheets. "They would have reported to me if she had escaped, Ester has before when it has happened, unless Ketra hid behind the door."

"And snuck out when their back was turned. Would only have taken a second," John agreed. He glanced at Ketra, who though laying still, her eyes were sliding quickly from Teyla to him and back.

Teyla frowned down at Ketra. "You know that you must stay in here," she said sternly to Ketra. "I know that it is far more interesting outside, but you will simply end up being banned from the city and I will have to leave you on the Sythus even when I am not there."

John moved passed the sofas as he tried hard not to smile at Ketra's forlornly lowered eyes. He would suggest keeping her with them, but he had grown up with dogs in the house and he knew that you had to follow through with an order or punishment or they saw it as weakness. He used the same thinking when it came to dealing with Rodney.

He reached the window and stood at Teyla's side as he looked out at the fantastic view of Tjaru in the moonlight. "Wow," he uttered.

Teyla turned at his side and looked out alongside him. "The family courtyard is below as well," she indicated and he looked down to see the large reflecting pools shining up at them.

"Nice view," he complimented.

"Thank you," she replied, but her attention had returned to frowning down at Ketra.

John looked away from the window, and noticed that beyond Teyla there was a small corridor with a door to the left and one closed directly ahead – presumably her bedroom was through there.

"I fear that I may have to return her to the forest," Teyla uttered with more emotion that John had ever heard in her voice.

He turned and looked down at Ketra with her. "She's still young though, isn't she?"

"Yes," Teyla replied with a faint nod. "I just fear that I cannot provide the environment and life that she may require."

John considered Ketra. The dragon looked away from their combined attention. Her colouring was grey, but almost shimmering, as if it was about to turn to silver again. Even lying there looking reprimanded and quiet, Ketra's strength was apparent. The thick lines of muscles and frighteningly long claws were enough of a reminder, even if John hadn't seen her attack a Wraith by herself before. What was different was that he no longer felt nervous of her himself, crouched alone with her behind those tubs had made it clear that she remembered him and that she had, most importantly, remembered that she now liked him.

"She seemed happy enough out in the courtyard before Mino arrived," John said and Ketra lifted her head and looked nervously over her shoulder. "She really doesn't like that name, does she."

"I believe that no one had ever shouted aggressively at her before Mi- the lead gardener," Teyla corrected before saying the dreaded name again.

"But she's fought Wraith before," John argued.

"Her species seem fond of humans," Teyla replied. "Though lately Ketra has been ignoring orders from anyone other than myself, Si, or Father." She glanced at him. "And you now, it seems."

John saw the curiosity in Teyla's glance. "We were hiding together, it's not the same."

She smiled at his comment, but looked away with an in breath and sighed as she looked back at Ketra, who was watching them, her chin still pressed deeply to the rug.

"Her species are meant to live in the trees, I am denying her that, and she clearly does not like to be shut away."

"Who does?" John asked wishing he could be more helpful, but he was unsure what to say because Teyla seemed quite concerned about the situation with Ketra.

"I am unsure what her thinking is, not that she thinks as we do."

John glanced at Ketra. When they had found her in the monkey yard, Ketra had seemed happy to see Teyla, wanting to play even. He saw the caution in Ketra's orange dragon eyes as they slid to Teyla, and her skin glimmered again on the verge of turning silver.

John looked back at Teyla. "Maybe she just wants to be with you," he told her simply.

Teyla looked round at him with a surprised look, her expression lightening.

"You believe it is as simple as that?" She asked, her smile gentle.

"Sure, I can understand that thinking," he replied without thinking.

Something shifted in her expression and in her eyes, and something electric happened in the air between them.

It was the first time in a while that he had felt it so strongly, the last few times being when they had met or said goodbye. The first time had been when they had met properly for the first time, him sat dishevelled in a cage and her looking down at him. He had tried some charm, which hadn't worked, but her amusement at him had created some of that electricity between them. Then on the red planet of Tallus when she had left him by its Gate, they had shaken hands, but John had held onto her strong yet elegant hand and kissed the back of it. Then in Atlantis, when she had left following her injury and Iketani' death, he had held her hand again, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand where he would have kissed again if there hadn't been a full Gate Room watching.

Each time, the moment had been relatively short, but he remembered each vividly. However, this was the first time since her departure from Atlantis that he had felt this so strongly, and it flared hotter now, allowing boundaries and fronts to be breached for a moment, and true interest and that mysterious magnetic pull of attraction tingled excitedly through the air between them.

A sharp buzz broke through the intense moment and simultaneously, through the open crack in the window, John heard loud chimes ringing and a gong struck several times.

Teyla looked out at the dark view of Tjaru glimmering in the moonlight. "The call to the banquet. We must not be late," she uttered with a slightly concerned smile as she moved away.

The moment had passed, as it had all the other times, but it had left him feeling a little flushed and his heart beating rapidly. He turned to follow her and saw that Ketra had lifted her head from the rug and was watching them. The orange eyes fixed on John for a moment, but she lowered her head again.

"You _must_ remain _here_," Teyla stressed down to Ketra.

Ketra rolled her eyes to look up at Teyla, really working the sympathy angle.

"Do _not_ leave this room. I will see you later," Teyla said as she headed for the door.

Ketra sighed, the noise long through her snout, and she pressed her chin deeper into the rug.

John followed Teyla towards the door, but as he passed Ketra on the rug, Teyla's back to him, he dipped down and rubbed Ketra's head affectionately. Her skin shifted colour, but John moved quickly away and followed Teyla out of the door.

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>TBC<p> 


	18. The Banquet

**Note**: Sorry meant to get this posted at the weekend, but a night out with the girls lead to a hungover Saturday and Sunday a friend stayed, so sorry for the delay but here finally is the next chapter. Now, some may sense the shifting started here, the build up is almost at a crescendo – When it all hits the fan it will be intense, I promise. Keep the faith.

Chapter 18 – The Banquet

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They reached the dining room well in time, for the guests were still slowly entering the large room, the massive space filled with the overlapping sounds of so many voices talking at once, the scrapes of chairs being pulled back and glasses being set down on tables.

Teyla had attended far too many banquets in here over the years, even from when she had been young, however, since she had become an Elite, her seat was always the same. She therefore, did not need to look at the seating plan or to check the names displayed before each seat, for she knew exactly where she would be sitting for the banquet. As she already knew where John was to be seated thanks to a conversation with Father's this morning about where he had chosen to sit those from Atlantis, John did not need to look for his seat either. However, he had his own role to play now in front of so many others.

"I'd better just check in with Woolsey and the others," John said to her as they entered and he moved away to where she could see Mr Woolsey walking in with Sitayi through another door.

Teyla headed towards her table and saw to her delight that Elkaska had arrived and now stood by his seat next to hers. Elkaska, as her and Zabetha's uncle, was due a place at the high table if he so chose, but he always preferred to remain in the 'background' at the Military table. She understood that thinking. His own Military career was known by most, but the true nature of it by few, his seat beside her was understood by all. As he too rarely attended banquets, it was always somewhat of special enjoyment for her to sit with her uncle apart from the others, the far table creating some illusion of privacy for them. They both saw the world and politics in a similar light and she very much enjoyed spending their limited time together away from their 'work' personas role. He often worked with the Elite to find necessary items, and though she saw him reasonably frequently in that regard, it was very different when they were home on Athos together. With Elkaska, she felt somewhat more relaxed than even with Father, for her uncle understood the true nature of her Military life and the dangers of it. He also had a way of slipping around expectations and boundaries. She respected that and loved her uncle dearly.

He saw her approaching and stepped away from the table to greet her.

"Honoured Elite," he intoned his voice full of the grin that was spread across his face.

His hands were warm and familiar as they touched down on her shoulders and she happily set her hands on his shoulders in turn.

She touched her forehead to his and smiled in return, she much preferred meeting with him when she could greet him properly and not with overt politeness when he played the trader and her the Elite warrior. "Uncle, it is so good to see you here."

"And you. I am especially pleased you are here, you can rescue me from the boredom of a banquet." He grinned and squeezed her shoulders affectionately before he lowered his hands. He was looking faintly older of late.

"I see that you have finally decided to let your grey hairs show through," she commented realising what had changed in his appearance.

He ran a hand over his hair. "Yes, one must eventually accept one's aging."

She smiled at him, knowing that is was unlikely he would be slowing down anytime soon.

"We all have our grey hairs," she admitted to him and he smiled back.

She so enjoyed his company. She had so many wonderful memories of travelling with him in his trading when she had been young. She had learnt so much from those days. She had loved to listen to him negotiating and striking deals with traders, and it had been in quite a different way than how she had heard Father negotiate politically. She had loved the fluidity of his mind, and his humour and instincts with people, and it had afforded her the chance to travel away from Athos to other planets and to marketing stations. Those adventures had seeded so many skills she used in her work now, and of course, they had also afforded her those first glimpses of Elite warriors. At times, she wondered if perhaps in another life, she might have become a trader like her uncle. She might have enjoyed that life, away from the politics that Father handled so easily and away from the violence of her warrior life.

"Sit, and talk with me," Elkaska encouraged as he pulled out her chair for her – something no one else would ever do for an Elite warrior. "How are the new scabbards?" He asked as they both sat down at the table.

Teyla shifted in her seat, angling so that he could see the one sword she wore at her back today. "As high a standard as you promised."

He ran an expert's eye over how the sword sat in the scabbard. "Good, good. And the harness?" He asked glancing at the shoulder strap that was almost invisible against her outfit.

"Equally as good," she promised.

"Anything needs altering or weakens let me know," he told her as he settled properly in his seat and pulled forward their waiting jug of water. He lifted its cover and dropped a neutralising tablet of his own into it. "I hope to trade more with the swords' craftsmen. They are crafting a new metal weapon; an axe with a spike on the opposite side, but both coated with a fine crystalline substance." He was always discovering new materials and weapons for trade, and his excitement in his work had not dulled in all his years. It was one of many reasons why the Elite chose to trade with him.

"For superior cutting?" Teyla asked as he poured water into her glass. She realised that she had left her former glass somewhere in a courtyard that she had shown John around. How unlike her not to have noticed where.

"Yes, and also to preserve the blade's edge. There is a similar technique used by Taah's people, but with a poison absorbed into the crystals before embedding. It has been their traditional way of killing Wraith."

"Yes, I am aware of their weapons," she replied. "I have used one."

"Really? You did not tell of this?" He asked with professional curiosity.

"I came upon it in a Hive, and used it to kill the very Wraith it's former own had been unable to cleave with the tainted weapon."

"Efficient then?"

"Yes, though the weight of the handle is somewhat heavy in respect to the blade – it slows the weapon," she reported and Elkaska nodded, taking in the information as he glanced away across the rest of the large room.

Most of the guests had found their seats and the noise level had dropped slightly. Around the room, lining the walls stood a myriad of bodyguards watching over the various officials. Teyla looking round to the left and saw Major Lorne and Lieutenant Martins by one wall. She hoped they had taken some food for themselves prior to entering the dining room.

John crossed her view, moving away from the table at which Mr Woolsey was now sitting down. He was sat on the most distance seat of the Ambassadors to Athos, which was to be expected, but the placement was already drawing some attention from around the room.

John passed the lower officials' tables, a few of them noticing him passing behind them. Teyla thought she saw more than professional interest in the female eyes among them, and one male who watched John pass by with clear personal interest. John, a handsome man on the worse of his days, looked particularly striking today in his dark blue uniform. It fit him very well, highlighting his wide shoulders and trim toned physique. The colour was most flattering and the clear display of his military commendations pinned to one side of his chest made her feel proud that these many guests could see and respect his warrior status. Once he sat down at this table, beside her, that status would only heighten. Yet, she realised now, his friendly demeanour would also serve him well, a trait that she personally had not needed to cultivate in being an Elite warrior, yet she could see that his friendly smile had a noticeable affect on others. Not just those with clear appreciation for his physically appearance, though that alone would draw some to take interest in who he was and therefore what those from Atlantis might also be like. She doubted John would see his sexual appeal as being a benefit in that regard, and watching him nod and smile politely to those he passed she was almost certain that he was ignorant of the admiration certain eyes had for him. Meela had practically stumbled over her feet when she had noticed him for the first time. John hadn't appeared to notice her reaction, though Teyla had only caught a glimpse over her shoulder at the time, and she had been too worried about finding Ketra before Mino.

Teyla looked away from the room, and her casual following of John through the guests, and controlled the smile that threatened to break free as she recalled John and Ketra hiding together behind those pots. Ketra had clearly remembered John, and Teyla hadn't missed the sympathy inducing expressions Ketra had used on him as well as her. John had held strong though, supporting Teyla and her need to reprimand Ketra. He had suggested a very simple yet possible reason why Ketra was so particularly resistant and uncompromising about being shut inside. John had suggested that it wasn't that she just wished freedom or the chance to eat blossoms, but that she simply wished to be at Teyla's side as much as possible.

However, John's suggestion had not simply included Ketra in that suggestion, his expression and tone had implied that he too enjoyed his time alone with her. The unexpected compliment had surprised her, in her own reaction as much as his admission. It had also echoed her own appreciation for his company. It had not been the first time that she had sensed the attraction and potential between them so strongly, but it had been the first time that she had truly entertained the offer that she had sensed so clearly.

Previously he had offered friendship and she had willingly agreed. He was an unexpected friend, yet one that she had valued from their very first proper interactions. He was an intelligent man with good humour and he was a skilled warrior.

She considered him a friend, but a potential lover?

Would that be a wise choice considering their lives and professions? It could be that Atlantis might never be accepted by the Alliance, despite the positive beginnings initiated by Father and Mr Woolsey. After Zabetha's marriage, Teyla would be leaving Tjaru and returning to the Sythus, and it was likely that she may not see John again for a long time, perhaps never again. Would changing such a new interesting and enjoyable friendship for a passing love affair be a wise choice?

She had found that past lovers had a tendency to resent her Elite status and the fact that she always put her work before anything else. Even Kanaan, a long-term friend and confidant, had grown difficult and rather spiteful. When she had ended their relationship some time ago, he had not taken it well. At first, he had not believed her truly and had attempted to regain intimacy with her. She had always turned him down, as politely as possible, keeping their past good friendship always in mind. However, he had recently requested to be transferred off the Sythus. He had told her, during their last private discussion, that their relationship had made him see that he wanted to be with a woman who wished to be his wife and have his children. The silence had been heavy in the air after that statement. She had known what he had wished her to say, but she had not provided him with the answer she suspected he had wanted – that she would play that role for him. She had wished him well with his transfer, and in a moment that was more Athosian than Elite, she had apologised for not being what he wished her to be. He had kissed her cheek, a small touch that she had permitted, and he had walked away. With her un-Elite like apology, she had shown him some of the vulnerability he had wanted to share with her in a relationship, but she had been unwilling before. She had instead shown him one expression of true emotion that he had argued she had lacked before, and she suspected he resented that it had been shared only in their parting.

"…is his third wife in as many years," Elkaska said and Teyla realised she hadn't been listening.

Teyla looked across the room to where he was looking. "Third?" Teyla asked with amusement.

"With his handsome face, and the need for more heirs to put him in the lead for the ruling position, I suppose he will gather more," Elkaska replied.

Teyla glanced at the particular tall quaffed ambassador who was currently walking across the room towards his seat, his third wife at his side.

"I had not realised that Father had invited him," Teyla said. "I was under the impression that he and Father had not yet found an agreement over the disputed shipments…" she began, only for John to arrive and distract her from the conversation.

"Sorry, just checking in with Lorne and Martins," John said.

Teyla smiled at him before looking round at her Uncle. She had not realised how much she had anticipated this introduction, especially since the two had in fact already met once before. The nature of slavery was one that Teyla thought appalling, yet there was something somewhat amusing in teasing John about his official Alliance status of being her 'slave'. When Elkaska had previously met John, it had been on the marketing station when John had been playing the role of her slave.

"Elkaska, may I introduce you to Major John Sheppard of Atlantis," Teyla said with a smile that she managed to keep casually polite for the many eyes that were undoubtedly watching.

"Ahhh," Elkaska replied, clearly having recognised John's face from the marketing station. He stood up from his seat and extended his hand to John. "It is good to meet you properly, and I understand that this is your people's traditional greeting."

John and Elkaska shook hands in the space above and behind Teyla's chair. She would have stood, but that would have been inappropriate for those watching – Elite do not stand in deference to others. If she had done so, it would have said far more than it ever should.

Both men sat down, one on either side of her, and she sat back in her seat slightly so that they could see each other easily.

"Your choice of purchase is even more intriguing now," Elkaska could not help tease her.

"I am sure that you have already surmised that Major Sheppard is _not_ my slave," she said quietly to him with a smile, but also making it clear with her tone that the notion of her having a slave was not to be spread.

Elkaska nodded his head in agreement, but she saw a particular sparkle in his eyes that seemed somewhat more than she had expected. She had the sudden suspicion that Father may have been speaking to him, and she wondered what they had been saying about her friendship with John.

"He is far more intriguing," Elkaska continued, perhaps having seen her frown. She suspected that he was covering his real meaning still though. "A man from another galaxy," he added louder to include John. "I have heard many stories of your people, and have actually met two of them before."

"Really?" John asked with surprised interest.

"Yes, a Doctor Michaels and a warrior with him whom I believe was called Donovan," Elkaska supplied.

"How long ago was this?" John asked.

"Oh, I would say it was last yearly cycle now. I was visiting a world on which I trade basic medical supplies, bandages and such, for they have very poor supplies of their own and have been quite severely targeted by the Wraith."

"I think I remember that report," John replied, "They have mock battles all the time to see whose going to hold back the Wraith?"

"Yes," Elkaska replied. "And as you can imagine there is a frequent need for bandages."

John nodded as he pulled apart the sweet grain roll on his side plate. Teyla would wait for hers to be personally delivered. No sooner had she thought that, and the side doors opened dramatically and the servers proceeded in with trays loaded with the first course.

Elkaska turned in his seat and clicked his tongue against his teeth and his pet, Umo, formally asleep across the space behind them, climbed up onto his feet with a sleepy yawn. As Umo moved forward, he noticed Teyla and she reached out to him. He slid his large nose against her hand and rubbed his head against her hand, pressing up tightly between her and Elkaska.

"I remember him," John said from beside her.

"Yes, this is Umo," Teyla told him as she scratched around Umo's ears.

"As in Madumo?" John asked.

Teyla smiled. "Elkaska is not good with names. His first pet was female and a good guard pet, so he called her Madumo. However, she passed many long yearly cycles ago and he took in Umo when I was young."

"How old is he?" John asked.

"Too old," Elkaska replied as he rubbed one hand down Umo's large back. "He believes that he can sit back and sleep all the time, do you not, Umo?"

Umo ignored him and purred into Teyla's hand. His purr was very different to Ketra's. Umo purred with a deep heavy vibration throughout his entire body. Apparently, in his species, there was a special vocal cord low in the respiratory system that was designed just for purring. The sound was closely linked with her memories of her childhood. When she had travelled with Elkaska, or he had stayed in Tjaru, she had used to sit resting against Umo for hours.

"I remember Hakon used to pluck out his hairs," she said with a smile of memory.

"Ow," John muttered.

"Umo does not mind," Elkaska explained. "His species is kept on his homeworld for their hair."

John glanced around Teyla to see Umo better.

"It is very similar to human hair, and those on his homeworld use them for brushes, clothing, and they even use it in their plaster for building work," Elkaska explained.

"Nice," John said with faint distaste.

"Their hair grows as long as Zabetha's," Elkaska told John, "and every summer season it is removed. The species naturally would rub it free themselves, but it is removed carefully by traders."

"He's had a recent shave then," John replied, referring to Umo's short hair.

"No," Teyla replied. "Umo is one of the few of his species who, due to a small genetic abnormality, means that their hair remains short. They are not valued highly because of this and are often traded or killed."

"I traded for him when he was a youngling," Elkaska added. "He has been my guard ever since." The more affectionate note drew Umo's attention and Elkaska scratched at Umo's other ear. "Now, take this, my shadow, and sleep by the wall," he added offering Umo his sweetgrain roll, as he scratched at Umo's other ear affectionately.

Umo took the roll in his large jaws and moved away, brushing affectionately along Teyla's arm as he did. She ran her hand down his back as he walked away to his spot by the wall.

As she turned back to the table, she wondered if a day might come when Ketra could remain as close to her at a banquet without the concern that she might do something unpredictable.

The dining room was loud with voices as the first course was gradually served. The high table had been served first then the next closest tables were served and onwards until the outlying tables were last. However, Teyla's meal was served individually, prepared separately from all the others, and she spied her plates on their way to her, timed so that they were delivered just after the high table, as tradition dictated for an Elite.

She thanked her server who removed the lids to reveal her sweetgrain roll, which she noticed had an extra helping of twisting herb added, and the first course was a simple arrangement of fruits. The high table's fruit and hers had been grown in the orchard courtyard.

She noticed John studying her food with interest. She named the different fruit for him.

"So that's what awak looks like," he uttered.

The servers were almost to this table, and, though tradition stated that Teyla could start her meal now, she waited for John and Elkaska to be served. The guests associated with the military who were sat to Elkaska's right, were looking around the banquet in relative silence compared to the other guests. Teyla looked round the room herself, and noticed a few heads immediately look away. She suspected they had been commenting on John's presence sat beside Honoured Elite Emmagan. A few faces did not turn away though and she exchanged a few nods with those she knew, but had not had the chance to speak with earlier.

"Zabetha is beaming," Elkaska said with warmth and Teyla glanced at him and then towards the high table. The servers had reached the military table and were setting down John and Elkaska's first course. Teyla angled her head slightly to look at her sister, and saw that she was indeed smiling widely.

"It is good that she is so happy for her political marriage," Teyla said, and beside her John looked over to the high table as well.

"It may have started that way, but there is love there," Elkaska replied with the same pointed tone in his voice that Father used when they spoke of Zabetha's wedding. "As can happen in such marriages, but admittedly far faster in their case."

Teyla glanced at him doubtfully. "I do not think most in political marriages would agree. Look at the Gawa trader," she pointed out as example.

Elkaska looked with her across the room to where the pretty women sat next to a tall handsome man, the two of them dressed in the exact same colour, but clearly not intending to talk with each other at all.

"True," Elkaska granted as he picked up his fork and started on his fruit. "Perhaps friendship is the best target."

Teyla glanced at John beside her, to see that he was trying one piece of fruit. She waited for his assessment, which was a pronounced wince.

"It may be best to eat that fruit along with a piece of the kita fruit if it is not to your taste," she advised.

John nodded, but he was still too caught up in his wince to reply. "I might just stay away from that one," he finally said once he could talk again. He had a very expressive face.

"Perhaps," Teyla agreed. "It is not only called sharp fruit due to the shape of it's leaves." She smiled.

"It's sharp alright," John muttered as he pushed the slices aside and focused on the kita and awak.

"What was the name of the sweet Earth vegetable pieces that I liked when I visited Atlantis?" She asked him around eating.

"Carrots," John replied conversationally. "They're a big favourite on Earth. Easy to grow and most people like 'em. You also liked bananas; they were the yellow fruit with their own packaging."

She remembered the fruit, for it had appealed in that it was complete in itself and it had tasted good.

"What is your favourite fruit from Earth?" She asked him as she forked together pieces of kita and sharp fruit.

He reached for his water, which Elkaska had thoughtfully poured for him. "I love oranges; they also come in their own packaging."

"Earth has very convenient fruit," she joked and she looked round at Elkaska beside her to discover him staring at her. He lifted his eyebrows and looked back down at his plate. She frowned at his badly hidden amusement before she turned her attention back to her own plate.

"Tell me, Major Sheppard," Elkaska asked, "are your people planning to enter into trade with just Athos or with more worlds?" Teyla recognised the tone – he was looking for trading opportunities.

"We've been trading with quite a few planets. Outside the Alliance," John replied. "We've got limited farming land of our own, so we've been mostly trading for food with our military support and medical supplies."

"Ah, interesting. I have heard talk that your doctors are very skilled."

Teyla kept quiet from then onwards, allowing them to talk, and only adding the occasional comment. She had not considered that Elkaska would be personally interested in trading opportunities with Atlantis, but she should have. He traded freely inside and outside of the Alliance border, and likely with people that she did not even know about.

As Elkaska described to John the marketing stations and their uses throughout the Alliance, she instead looked around the room again. The first course was over and the plates were being collected up, timed so that the second course was served moments after the first plate was taken away.

Teyla looked down at her tava bean and mixed vegetables in a green spice sauce. The vegetables would be from Tjaru, though the spice had to be brought in from a neighbouring settlement where the spice grew in abundance. John and Elkaska were served the same meal, and she watched with curious interest as John took his first taste of the spiced dish.

"Mmm," he murmured to himself and she smiled, pleased that he liked the meal, and she set into hers.

"Are your people planning to farm these convenient Earth fruits you mentioned?" Elkaska asked John continuing their discussion on trade.

"Maybe, some of them," John replied as he spooned up a good helping of tava beans and sauce. "We've mostly begun growing more local cereals and vegetables, but now that we're in regular contact with Earth, we get regular supplies."

"But, you still trade with worlds outside the Alliance, yes?" Elkaska asked.

"Yes, mainly for vegetables, and some fresh fruit. Though, we've started a small amount of trade in coffee beans and chocolate with two friendly worlds who we've been trading with since we got here."

"What are coffee beans used for?" Elkaska asked.

As Teyla listened to John's replies to Elkaska's many questions, she studied the rest of the guests, observing officials interacting. She watched expressions as she noted the seating placements. Father, or perhaps Zabetha with her attention to detail, had wisely chosen the seating arrangement for tonight. It would be different for the Wedding banquet itself, when there would be fewer people, but that would only make the seating arrangement more vital she assumed. Though she had teased Zabetha about worrying over such details, she understood the importance.

Even now, she noticed some sharp looks being sent from a Cador trader towards Representative Garthew. Rosenthal had decided to no longer use Cador silver for their warriors' blades. Cador's silver reserves had run lower of late and they had therefore needed to increase the price in trading. Rosenthal in response had initiated a change in weapon manufacture that had no longer required the Cador silver element. Cador had taken it as a slight, but the Elite knew that the new Rosenthal weapons had been poised for mass manufacture beforehand, and Cador had simply sparked the decision to introduce the new weaponry for their warriors. Rosenthal had offered medical training to Cador healers in place, but that had bypassed many Cador traders. Where before the Cador traders had lived well on their silver trade, they now had only one fifth of the business that they had had before. The Cador trader at the banquet traded silver to the Athosian worlds for jewellery, but he was showing his displeasure for the Rosenthal Representative clearly for all to see.

There were a number of other small petty disagreements both concerning trade and politics throughout the banquet, but due to the seating most were spaced apart and were keeping their opinions to small whispering. Teyla suspected that the presence of people from Atlantis had probably replaced much of the more local gossiping tonight. There were many tiny glances towards her table, but as soon as the person saw her looking out at the room, they quickly looked away again. Their attention on Mr Woolsey was not as restrained.

As John asked Elkaska about his trading career, Teyla watched the Athosian Ambassadors, who worked on other worlds for Father, and saw that there was as much curiosity among them as there was among the other guests. That the Ambassadors to Athos who were present already knew Mr Woolsey, such as Thadeu and Sitayi, it was obvious to others that Father was serious about Atlantis' presence.

Teyla finished her second course and the plates were removed, and she found herself looking towards the high table. Father was smiling to Charin and speaking to Garthew with her, who seemed very relaxed tonight. Teyla was pleased that Garthew had accepted Atlantis, though her own opinion of him was tainted. However, his approval for Father's trading involvement with Atlantis should assist with opinions in the High Council.

The final course was set before Teyla and she looked down at the steam pepper berries on thick sticky sweet grain pudding, surrounded by pieces of Rillaton. The sticky sweet Rillaton was only made for Harvest Festivals and weddings. Teyla was certain that plenty of Rillaton would have been made for the wedding day itself, but it was a pleasant surprise to see some pieces in the final serving today. It was a favourite of hers.

"You can eat these pieces with your fingers," Teyla informed John as she picked up a piece of Rillaton herself. "It is very sweet and sticky, and a favoured treat for Athosians."

"I like them with the pudding," Elkaska muttered around his mouthful of pudding.

"Mmm, it's really good," John said with clear appreciation for the Rillaton.

"The berries are quite a strong flavour, I would not advise eating too much of them in one mouthful," Teyla suggested as she cut through the deep pudding with her spoon and scooped up a small piece of steam pepper berry with it. It tasted wonderful.

"Your mother used to love this pudding," Elkaska uttered. "We used to beg Mother to prepare it for us, and we used to cook it over the family fire. Sometimes pulling it out too soon when it was clearly uncooked."

Teyla smiled at him, always happy to hear tales of her Mother, Elkaska's sister.

"I still remember the distinctive stomach ache caused by eating this pudding undercooked. Mother used to leave us to decide when we would eat it, letting us learn that way."

Teyla smiled at the image. She had obviously never met Mother's mother, for the Wraith rarely allowed a single person to live beyond a certain age, at least before the Alliance had been formed. In fact, Elkaska and Father were likely older than their own parents had been allowed to reach. Charin's advanced age was unusual and wonderful, especially as now, free of the Wraith, she could live to her natural departure to be with the Ancestors.

Elkaska turned and lowered a piece of Rillaton behind his seat and Umo appeared at his side, happily taking the sweet treat from his fingers. Teyla smiled down at Umo as he settled down between her and Elkaska's seats, licking joyfully on his treat.

"Do not be concerned," Elkaska said to her, "there will be plenty more Rillaton at the carnival and the wedding."

Teyla smiled at his point, for he knew it was a favourite of hers.

"Speaking of the carnival," John said and she looked back round at him, to see that he had almost entirely finished his final course already. "Apparently, we've been invited."

Teyla smiled. "I believed you likely would be. I am sure it will be a very useful insight into the more joyful side of the Alliance life."

"Looking forward to it," John smiled back as he picked up his last piece of Rillaton.

"Honoured Elite Halling, Si, and Oneakka should all be in attendance," she informed John. "I am sure they will be pleased to meet with you and your group again."

"Great," John replied, his smile seemed honest enough.

"Though perhaps you should not yet mention your new bantos training to Oneakka or Si, they would only wish to test your skills," she warned.

"You are learning bantos?" Elkaska asked with interest. She suspected he was already imagining trading bantos rods to Atlantis.

"Yes, Honoured Elite Emmagan has taught me the first drills and forms," John replied as he wiped his Rillaton sticky fingers on his side cloth.

"There are cleansing wipes in there," Teyla indicated the tiny dish set by the glasses. "Rillaton will stick to your fingers for hours otherwise," she told him with a smile.

"Thanks," John replied as he reached for the tiny dish set before his empty bowl.

"Elite Emmagan is teaching you bantos?" Elkaska asked John, clearly believing he had misheard John's statement. Teyla looked at Elkaska as he sat upright, having passed his last piece of Rillaton down to Umo.

"Yes, though I'm not the fastest student," John replied, lying to be polite and respectful to her.

Teyla was still looking at her uncle though, because he was staring at her meaningfully. She suspected she knew why and gave Elkaska a good glare to make sure he did not get the wrong idea.

"Major Sheppard is an able warrior," Teyla stated. "And you are learning very fast," she added to John.

"I do not envy you the difficult task ahead of you, Major Sheppard," Elkaska said. His tone was slightly off and Teyla looked round at him again, but her beloved uncle seemed focused on scrapping together the final faint traces of his pudding from around the edges of his bowl.

"I've already had a taste of some sparring at least," John replied as he set his cleansing wipe back in its tiny dish, having noticed that was where Teyla had put hers.

"Yes, sparring, that is what I was referring to," Elkaska muttered quietly down into his bowl as he gave up on the last traces of pudding and set his spoon and bowl aside, studiously ignoring Teyla's stare.

John had not heard the comment, but Elkaska had wanted her to hear it. She considered how to reply to it pointedly, but the servers arrived to remove the final course's bowls.

The server gone, Elkaska looked round and smiled at her. She realised, for the first time, that of all the people she knew, of all her family even, he was the least likely to be intimidated by her. Elkaska knew many Elite and in being a trader across many worlds, his attitudes were different. Perhaps his own secret military past was also a factor. For though he respected her as an Elite warrior, he had told her frankly that he saw her as his niece first and that he would always remember her as the young girl who he had thought might one day become a trader, sat snuggled up to Umo as she listened to him negotiating trades across his stall. It was difficult, therefore, to warn her Uncle into silence with a look that would have made many others cower away from her Elite status. Even Father did not push matters with her when she employed her Elite glare. Elkaska simply looked past her to John again, a clear glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

"Tell me, are you married, Major Sheppard?"

Teyla narrowed her eyes with a more forceful glare, hoping that Elkaska would at least acknowledge her attempt at warning him into silence. He pretended he hadn't noticed.

"No," John replied, his tone betraying his surprise at the direct question, but she suspected he had heard the undertones of Elkaska's question. "Do you trade wives too?" John asked as a joke, using his humour to turn the conversation, thereby taking slight control of it.

"No," Elkaska laughed. "Though I have been known to transport love letters secretly between worlds," he added with that underpinned meaning again.

Teyla took a calming breath and considered jabbing her uncle with her elbow.

She would have to have a private word with him after this.

"Sounds like there's a good story behind that," John replied, expertly not responding to Elkaska's innuendo.

"Oh, yes, there is," Elkaska replied, happily moving fluidly with John's response. "Though I had nothing to do with the ensuing revolution it provoked on that particular world I will have you know."

John grinned at that. "Have you ever been married?" He asked Elkaska, switching the conversation round and perhaps making a point.

"No, I have had no time to look after a spouse," Elkaska replied. "My work is my love." He smiled proudly as he said it. "And I am her mistress," he added.

Teyla looked round at John to see him still smiling at Elkaska. It appeared that John had not been insulted by Elkaska's insinuations about his friendship with her; however, Teyla would speak with her uncle later about the matter.

"So you trade with a lot of worlds outside the Alliance?" John asked, steering Elkaska back onto the former conversation of trade.

"Indeed, in fact, if there is anything specific your people are looking for in trade, let me know about it. I may be able to help," Elkaska replied. 'I may be able to help' was his turn of phrase that Teyla had heard so many times in the past and it meant an honest offer of trade. If her uncle asked to help, it was almost as official as Zabetha and Rhakshar signing their contract. Her uncle seemed very keen on his new trading possibilities with those from Atlantis.

Any further discussion of trading was prevented though, for Father had called for quiet. Once the entire room fell into silence, he made a short speech, welcoming all and thanking them for attending in honour of Zabetha and Rhakshar's wedding in two day's time. He added thanks to those who had cooked the fine banquet meal, which was greeted with applause, and then Father went on to mention the importance of change and growth through new beginnings. Though he was referring directly to the wedding, she knew that he was also indirectly speaking to everyone in their political issues, and likely also referring to the attendance of those from Atlantis.

Zabetha then stood to thank those for attending, Rhakshar saying only a few words afterwards, all flattering about Athos and the new relationship to be formed between his people and the Athosians. After more applause, which seemed heartfelt from the room, Father stood again and declared the meal completed. He invited everyone to return to the meeting rooms, in which further drinks would be served, and that people were welcome to remain as long as they wished for the next few hours.

The speeches over, everyone in the room rose to their feet and the noise level rose dramatically. Beside her, both Elkaska and John stood, both of them complimenting the food and speeches, mostly to each other she felt, but as she stood she could already see Mr Woolsey approaching. He was smiling to other guests he passed through the crowd as everyone began to leave the dining room, but clearly he was heading for John.

John glanced over his shoulder, either having noticed her attention or having heard Mr Woolsey's voice.

"I guess its back to politics," John muttered as he looked back at her. Yet again, her time with John was being cut short. Though the banquet meal had lasted some time, it felt as if it had flown by. Her previous time alone with John in the courtyards and in her quarters felt as it if had been many long hours ago.

"It appears so," Teyla replied, feeling cautious of Elkaska's attention next to them.

"Ah, your father is free, I will go speak with him," Elkaska declared and Teyla almost rolled her eyes. "It was a pleasure to meet you again, Major Sheppard, and in far more enjoyable circumstances. I hope I have the chance to see you again later, and perhaps your people would like to discuss some trading opportunities some time."

"Thanks, I'll sure we will," John replied.

Elkaska smiled, turned and headed across the sea of people moving out of the dining room. Teyla glared at his back for a second and then turned back to John. She glanced around his shoulder and saw that Mr Woolsey was gained ground towards them.

"I will not be joining everyone in the meeting rooms," Teyla informed John, wishing for once that she could find some enjoyment in just sitting and talking in a political situation with him, but John was already nodding with understanding.

"Wish I didn't have to," he muttered, but there was something subtly new in his expression and she suspected that his mind had turned to that moment back in her quarters. Her mind had flown there already. She was almost tempted to invite him to see the rest of the courtyards, but it would not be appropriate now.

"I hope you will enjoy yourself at the carnival tomorrow," she told him.

"It's going to be pretty busy from what Abas told us," John replied, his voice was pitched slightly higher to be heard over the large number of people moving through the room, but at least they were not passing close by her and John.

"It will be," she replied. "I would advise, if you have the time tomorrow, that you look for the dark blue banners above one display. I should be there most of the morning, and hope to see you." She felt a flush of admission in the invitation. She had already gone through the reasons why a lover from Atlantis would be a bad idea, yet she truly did wish to see him again.

Mr Woolsey was no more than a metre behind John now, having been distracted by someone for a moment, but was now heading towards them with a clear bright smile on his face. He had enjoyed the banquet it seemed.

"I'll find you," John replied but Mr Woolsey arrived and Teyla had to shift her attention to the political advisor. It helped though for she felt far more in response to John's promise than she perhaps should.

"Honoured Elite Emmagan," Mr Woolsey greeted her, bowing his head. His cheeks were faintly flushed from the warmth of the room, and she suspected that he was very pleased with how the banquet had gone for him and Atlantis.

"Mr Woolsey, I trust that you have enjoyed the banquet so far?" She asked. Behind him, Major Lorne and Lieutenant Martins had slid through the thinning crowd, their attention on the flow of people, but she could see that they were more at ease.

"It has been very successful, thank you, Honoured Elite," Mr Woolsey replied before he looked at John.

"Good food, wasn't it?" John asked, but Teyla suspected the question was to fill the faint sense of awkwardness Mr Woolsey's sudden arrival had created.

"We wouldn't know," Major Lorne muttered as he arrived behind John. "Looked good though."

"There will be some further smaller sweet treats that will be served with the drinks that you could enjoy," Teyla suggested to the two who had had to stand watching the lavish meal, but without any serving for themselves.

"Thanks," Major Lorne replied.

"We can't stay much longer though," John said quietly.

Mr Woolsey looked at his time keeping device on the back of his wrist. "We've still have a good half hour till we need to get back to Atlantis. I want to talk with Representative Garthew again, and he wanted to speak with you Major Sheppard."

Teyla saw John's faint frown and Major Lorne muttered something quietly teasing.

"Only half an hour, then," Mr Woolsey stated. "We should get going." The politician turned his attention to Teyla and smiled. "Would you like to accompany us, Honoured Elite?" He offered politely to her.

"Thank you for the offer, but I will retire from the banquet now. I have some duties still to attend to this evening." It was not entirely true, but Elite had no place sitting among politicians and it would not do to sit alone with John for all to see.

"Of course," Mr Woolsey replied. "We hope to see you tomorrow, Honoured Elite."

"And the same to you," Teyla replied and Mr Woolsey nodded and moved away, Major Lorne and Lieutenant Martins moving with him.

John hesitated in following though, and she met his eyes. They really were unusually coloured eyes, though somewhat darkened this evening.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said with a smile, though she could tell that he too was far too aware of the last guests leaving the room barely a metre away.

She wished she had more to say, but something new was alive between them. It did not feel like a pressure or demand, but was a hovering potential lingering in the air, like the hints of a possible song carrying in the breeze. At moments, if she focused, she could almost hear the potential words of the song, yet the air shifts and the song drifts away. What there could be between them.

She enjoyed John's friendship, but they barely knew one another. How would their friendship grow in the years to come, if they had such a chance? Together they could help find some agreement and common ground between their respective peoples. They could help bind the Alliance and Atlantis with understanding, trade, and friendship.

She would like that, for though she loved her work, being an Elite all that she could ever want, yet the prospect of working for peace over violence – it appealed more than she had ever suspected. The Elite ultimately all fight for freedom, yet it was a life of violence, death, and struggle. Working with John, she might help create a situation where the galaxy could be unified against the Wraith and they could finally be destroyed. One day all peoples could be free. Thinking that perhaps her friendship with John might be a clog in that possible wheel might be grand thinking, but it was possible.

Becoming lovers would be entirely different. It could destroy their friendship, or it could alter it into something taxing and twisted. She may have to separate herself from Atlantis because of that relationship, or he may, as Kanaan and others had done, turn against her and her work. She would hate to risk their friendship over simple desire.

There was also the reality of having a lover from a world and culture so different from her own and so far away. It was not as if she would see him often, and they both lived highly dangerous lives. It would hardly be easy. Did she really want such a situation in her focused, purposeful Elite life?

It may also alter those from Atlantis' opinion of Elite and the Alliance – she had no idea how John's people looked upon lovers between worlds. Politically it may be highly unwise.

So many reasons why it could be risky, complicated, disastrous, and ultimately unwise.

Yet, looking into his eyes, talking with him, walking at his side felt easy and enjoyable in a way that she had not experienced before. Perhaps it was simply that he was from such a different world, with no expectations on her as an Elite, or perhaps it was simply chemistry. There was clearly chemistry between them, and she felt it now lift and shine between, brought into the light so powerfully back in her quarters. It seemed to shimmer in the space between them and it felt good. It felt warm and it made her want to smile.

Yet, there were so many reasons why any more than friendship would be unwise.

"Tomorrow," she replied, promised; the moment brief yet expanded between them.

She was not sure how much of the silent communication was her own imagination or her own inner thoughts and feelings projected onto him, but at least all questions and considerations aside, she enjoyed his company.

Perhaps a day might arrive when the Alliance and Atlantis were friends, when they may work together for a common goal and then, perhaps, it may be possible for there to be more between her and John.

If that day ever arrived, she knew, honestly, that she would enjoy such a change in her life.

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>TBC<p> 


	19. The Carnival

**Note**: I've been absent for the last few weeks, life's been busy. It's been unbelievably busy at work, I've had a couple of friends return from abroad, found out an old school friend died some years ago and no one had heard about it, then two uncomfortable trips to the dentist, and suddenly several weeks have flown by.

I have been stressing with this chapter and unwilling to post it until now especially with the last few weeks, but it will just have to do now, and the next chapter will follow very quickly and hopefully the third one after that. I hope people are still willing to read despite the break – you know what life is like – full of surprises. I hope everyone is well X.

000

**Chapter 19 – The Carnival**

For the fifth day in a row, John entered the Gate Room to depart to Athos. It was carnival day on Athos, and John was looking forward to it – a day to simply enjoy Athos, no political talk, hopefully, and there was a chance that he might be able to find Teyla somewhere in it all. He was looking forward to it.

Colonel Carter was stood at the base of the Gate Room stairs as John entered and she smiled at him as he approached.

"Déjà vu," she joked, but he saw the strain in her expression.

The Wraith had arrived at the bakery planet late last night. The other teams had managed to evacuate the majority of the locals, though some had refused to leave, and some of the most outlying villages hadn't been reached in time, but for the most part the planet should have been mostly empty when the Wraith had arrived.

However, the most pressing issue was that Donovan's team were all still missing. The search for them had been hindered by the evacuation, and now the Wraith were there, there was nothing to do but wait and head back in once they leave. Mathews' team were waiting for that very moment, in orbit in a cloaked Jumper keeping an eye on things and ready to call in once the Wraith left. Then, the search for their lost team could really begin. Until then, it was a waiting game, and that stressful fact hung over the Gate room.

"We heard anything new?" John asked as he reached her side.

"Mathews dialled in half an hour ago," she reported, but already John could tell that it wasn't good news. "Seems the Wraith still found some people living on the southern hemisphere on the other side of the planet that we didn't know about, but it was a short culling. However, the one Hive and several cruisers haven't left yet; they've pulled back into a tight orbit of the next planet over in the system."

"Waiting to see if anyone comes back home," John guessed.

"Probably, and they'll be using the stop for the usual repair work on their ships from hyperspace," she replied glancing round as Woolsey headed down the stairs behind her. John glanced up at the Control Room above and could see Sumner in there, looking grim and even sterner than usual.

"No word from Donovan's team then?" John asked.

"They may be maintaining radio silence, but no," Carter replied. "Mathews is taking the Jumper back down into the last area they were seen. See what his team can find. Apparently there was some confusion at the Gate in the last few hours of the evacuation. Traders from a couple of other planets arrived through the Gate, expecting things to be normal, and a lot of the evacuees took the option to leave with them to other friendly worlds. There's a tiny chance that Donovan's team left with some of them and haven't had the chance to dial back," she suggested, but they both knew it was highly unlikely. Donovan would never have taken his team onto another world without radioing in, and would have responded to radio calls long before they might have left through the Gate.

The best hope now was that Donovan and his team had gotten trapped somewhere in those forested hills, maybe having followed some scared locals down into some caves or somewhere else that blocked any radio signals and the Jumper's scans for their locator beacons.

Lorne and Martins arrived at John's side, all kitted up ready to go – it really was like déjà vu.

"So, we're thinking some of the locals in that forest village turned on Donovan's team," John continued, in case no one else had said it out loud.

"Maybe," Carter conceded. "However, some of the planet's leaders, if such a word applies to them, said that often before a culling, people have been known to go missing in the forests. They believe that a handful of Wraith materialise from the trees as harbingers of the culling to come. Maybe there's a Wraith cruiser buried in the forest?" She suggested with a faint shrug, not seeming wholly satisfied with the theory herself. "Mathews is checking everything he can in the local area, without drawing any Wraith attention."

"Wraith just living quietly in the forest?" Lorne asked doubtfully from John's side. "That doesn't sound like their MO."

"It's more likely that these 'harbingers' arrive in a dart ahead of the Hive," Carter suggested, glancing back up towards Sumner in the control room where he was watching the long range sensors, "As they did here before the first siege. Send in an outfitted long range Dart to scan the planet and drop in some scouts to terrorise the locals."

"It's possible," John agreed, but it was still only a theory and even if it was right, it wasn't good news for Donovan and his team.

"You need more people here?" John asked, as he had the last two days, hating the feeling of just leaving when something so major was happening.

"No," Carter replied with a proper smile. "We've got all the manpower we need. You're all due on Athos."

John nodded, accepting her decision though not wholly liking it, but she and Sumner were in charge and John followed his orders. Most of the time.

"We're just waiting for Ford to pick up a few things," he added, turning the conversation away from Wraith.

Across the Gate Room Ford was already making his way towards them, manoeuvring around the marine teams stood waiting to be sent through the Gate to find their lost team. Ford was carrying a cardboard box, the top open, and as he reached them, he smiled as he reached inside.

"I got as much as I could from supplies without getting in too much trouble," Ford reported with his youthful grin as he lifted out a handful of candy bars.

"These are my favourite," Lorne uttered as he reached into the box for one of the mint chocolate bars.

"They're for trading," John reminded as he pulled out a couple of small packets of popcorn kernels and candy bars.

"Torren gave us some Alliance credits," Woolsey reminded them as he held up the small Alliance electronic pad that he had been carrying constantly on their trips to Athos.

"Sure," John replied as he slid the corn packets into one of his jacket pockets, "but we can't all use them, and besides Abas says there's going to be tons of stuff to buy."

"Rodney asked me to remind you to look out for anything useful," Carter said with a smile.

"Yes," John replied as he rolled his eyes, "Because he didn't go on about what to look for all through breakfast already."

"Like we'd know what he was talking about when we see it," Ford muttered as he offered the box to Woolsey.

Lorne and Martins had filled their pockets with candy and a packet of chips had been squeezed within a strap on Lorne's vest. John, as usual on these trips now, was without his own tac vest and P90, but he still had plenty of pockets in his pants and jacket, which were now all stuffed with sweet goods.

Woolsey considered the box and pulled out a couple of chocolate bars and a couple of travel packets of coffee granules. "I suppose it is a good idea," he uttered as he found some space for the trading items in the pockets of his ever-present suit. "Perhaps it will be the start of our own trading within the Alliance."

"There you go," John replied, pleased Woolsey was entering into the spirit of the day.

"I'm giving you the same six hours as usual," Carter advised, "but I understand that the Gate on Athos will be busy with so many people gating in and out for the carnival, so I won't expect your report dead on time."

John and the others nodded, Lorne subtly munching on a mouthful of mint chocolate bar.

"Enjoy yourselves, but remember you're there to meet people and to learn as much as you can," Carter said with more humour, especially when she looked at Lorne, who blushed slightly as he put away the remaining half of his chocolate bar.

"Emmagan said there should be some Elite there today who I've met before," John supplied.

"Good," Carter nodded. "See if there's anything else that they're willing to share, and above all," she looked around the group with amusement in her eyes, "behave yourselves."

They all smiled and nodded, so she turned and walked up the staircase. "Chuck, dial up Athos," she called.

It took two busy signals until the third dial locked and the wormhole exploded to life. So, yet again, John strode forward with Woolsey on one side, Ford on the other, and Lorne and Martins at his back. Hopefully though, today should be more interesting that the other more official visits of the last few days.

They stepped through the Gate and into a riot of noise and colour. Normally the area around the Gate was open, affording views of the fields and the forest beyond the road, the air gentle and quiet. Today it was very different. Bright tents surrounded the Gate, blocking the view of the fields and creating a clear controlled path away from the Gate out to the road. Masses of voices could be heard though, beyond the tents, music of several varieties from several different directions danced in the air, children were laughing, some crying, people were talking, laughing, and in the distance to the right John could hear someone singing. He could almost smell the popcorn from his childhood trips to the fair and the circus.

In the avenue of space ahead of the Gate, there were two lines of people, those to the left clearly waiting to use the Gate. Their arms were almost all full of bags and purchased items. One woman was carrying three potted planets in one arm and a sleeping child in the other. Other kids were stood in the line, most of them looking either tired or hyper, their parents equally so. The line to the right was the welcome committee by the looks of it, and was a simple line of tables manned by smiling Athosians who were handing across small rolls of parchment to the other newcomers, followed by a small flower and then what looked like a block of Rillaton on a stick. Everyone looked happy and relaxed.

"Wow!" Ford said excitedly from John's right.

"Looks like we should start here," Woolsey remarked as they headed towards the welcome tables.

From the left, Abas abruptly appeared through the queue of people. He was wearing his shining buckled uniform today and he was grinning brightly. "You are here," he exclaimed happily.

"Hey, Abas," John greeted as he reached them.

"Come, come, here," Abas lead them the final few steps to the start of the welcome tables. "Each take a parchment," he said handing one to Woolsey. The smiling Athosian woman with the low cut top handed a parchment to John and Ford beside him.

"Welcome," she said with the polite bright smile of an efficient receptionist.

"Thanks," Ford said, smiling back at her happily.

John opened the small parchment to see that it was a map of the area around Tjaru, all of the carnival sketched out in clear lines and squares. Each area had a couple of symbols over it and a tiny drawing.

"These are for you, so that you can find your way around the carnival and enjoy all there is to experience. You will see each area of the carnival marked out," Abas explained as he led them further along the tables and more smiling Athosians reached forward with the small white flowers. An older woman helpfully pinned one of the fragrant flowers to John's lapel for him.

"This is Rillaton," Abas continued as he handed Woolsey and then John a Rillaton lollypop. "They are wonderfully sweet," Abas encouraged. "Enjoy. Now, come, follow me," he added excitedly, turning to lead them away from the growing press of people behind them. The Gate had already activated at least twice since they had arrived.

Woolsey took the lead with Abas, both talking animatedly, and John followed. Lorne was walking just ahead of him, playing his role of bodyguard again, but he was also focusing on the Rillaton lollypop. John tried not to smile at the way Lorne was nibbling at it while trying to look cool at the same time.

The funnelled path from the Gate widened as they reached the usual road to Tjaru, turning right up its increasing slope. As with the last two days, Athosian guards were spaced along the road, but today the road was filled with human traffic only. There were no carts, just a lot of people moving in either direction along the road, all with the relaxed meandering pace of people enjoying themselves.

John decided he had to start on the Rillaton. It wasn't boiling hot today, but it was warm, with thin white clouds hanging in the bright Athosian sky. The pipe and drum playing from one direction became slightly louder and, just as John was taking his first bite of the Rillaton lollypop, they reached a gap in the tall tents lining the road, finally revealing the carnival for the first time. A long line of stalls could be seen just inside the opening, but beyond them, John could now see the long lines of other stalls stretching up across the field, right up the slope to Tjaru. Abas led them off the road and into the carnival, through the gap in the tents and into the first line of stalls. There was a rush of smells around John as he followed. The smell of differing cooked foods, of crushed drying grass under their feet, and the musty smell of tents, which all created almost exactly the same smell as any fair he had gone to back on Earth.

"This is great," Ford said appreciatively again as they followed Abas along the avenue of stalls.

"Yeah, they just need a Ferris wheel and it'd be perfect," John replied as he took a second mouthful of his Rillaton. It was as good as he remembered from the banquet last night.

"If you consult your maps, you will see that we are here," Abas was saying to them, holding up his own map and pointing to one area. "Though the maps are available in many languages, we of course do not know your written language yet, but the drawings are always included so they should be helpful," he continued as they followed the avenue, and past stalls that seemed to be selling mainly pots and trinkets.

"To the far right on the map you will see the drawing of trees; there you will find plantings and flowers for trade. Next to them, the main open spaces to sit and eat. There are various differing prepared foods, the stalls spread throughout the carnival, as you will have already noticed." They had just passed a large grill, the smell of cooking meat and something close to onions made John's stomach sit up and take notice.

"Further towards the city you will see the main stage, here on the map," Abas continued. "There are various displays there throughout the day, and to the right, see this symbol, it means that there are games for everyone to enjoy. There will be small competitions and winners will be announced later, you leave your name and world and you will be informed if you have won any prizes. This symbol further up the slope, see you can see the other stage from here," Abas said, pointing ahead as the avenue of stalls opened on one side and they could see further up the slope past the masses of stalls. The big stage with wings, which John had seen being built before, stood out across the mass of people, and around its base, there were fire-eaters, acrobats and jugglers walking through those watching in fascination.

"Behind the stage, the stalls continue round here," Abas explained indicating the area on his map as they walked closely together. Though there were a lot of people here, no one was pressing too closely, everyone seemed as polite and cheerful as usual. A young kid went past with a bright red balloon on a long piece of string.

"Maybe we should get one of those for McKay," Ford joked and John grinned.

"Probably not the alien technology that he had in mind," John replied before he took another mouthful of Rillaton. They had reached a patch of more open ground and he could see further afield, and though taking in all the details, he was mainly searching for the dark blue banners Teyla had mentioned.

"You see this area on the map is another picnic space, there you can look out at the fields, and there will be bantos demonstrations in the field beyond there," Abas went on and John glanced down at his own map, trying to identify which bit Abas as talking about.

"This circling line is obviously the walls of Tjaru," Abas continued, but John had already worked that out. "Up there in front of the Gateway there are vast numbers of displays." Displays, Teyla had said the blue banners would be over a display. "Then actually inside the city, there are stalls for more craftspeople, displays of their skills, trading venues, as well as the parks for relaxation and eating. "Finally, further out to the left, here, at the fork in the road that we have always taken the road to the right to Tjaru. The left road leads through this area to the lake beyond. There are fishing displays and competitions along the closest bank, as well as cattle and cart traders stationed along the road."

Abas had finished his virtual guide and stopped, turned and was smiling brightly at them. The pipe playing stopped from far to the right and there was applause in the distance. More drums started up again, this time accompanied by several voices.

"Where would you like to start your visit?" Abas asked.

"How about we work our way round up towards the city?" Woolsey suggested. "We would like to see the stalls and perhaps trade for some items."

"Yes, of course," Abas replied. "Let us start here, however if any of you should become separated from the rest, the place to meet is there, at the main large stage, say where the acrobats are now." They all agreed with the plan and Abas led the way into a new avenue of stalls. John didn't point out that they were all wearing their radios, except Woolsey John realised, but Lorne wouldn't let him out of his sight.

The stalls along this next avenue seemed mostly clothing and jewellery, and they wandered along, looking vaguely at what was on offer. Woolsey stopped at a few, looking with interest at some waistcoats, and the stall owner stepped around her stall to stand with him and do her saleswoman's thing.

John held back, making his way through the last of his Rillaton.

Martins was taking interest in the next stall. "We could get some good stuff here, for swaps back in Atlantis," he suggested.

"Something a bit different from half an hour shift swap and laundry duties," Lorne replied with a smile as he moved closer to Woolsey, looking at the small buttons that could be cufflinks. Martins, seeing an opportunity of his own, moved closer to the next stall.

Several giggling children brushed past John, running down the avenue, clearly high on sugar in John's opinion. A harassed looking woman stopped at John's side and shouted at the disappearing children.

"You will get no dinner for this!" She shouted, sounding slightly out of breath. "Your mother will have my hide," she muttered and hurried on after the children.

"Could be on Earth, except for the clothes," Ford muttered with a smile.

He was right that the clothing styles were different enough from Earth to be obvious. The differing styles within the Alliance were becoming more familiar already though. John was pretty sure he could pick Athosians out well enough now, and several other hairstyles were familiar from the banquet last night. One woman nodded at him, seeming familiar from last night. John nodded in reply before she turned back to a jewellery stall.

John glanced back at Woolsey to see that the trader was pointing to Woolsey's necktie with interest. Woolsey would be pleased that his neatly pressed tie had drawn such interest. John wondered if neckties would be making an appearance in the Pegasus galaxy due to Woolsey.

At the other stall, Abas was with Martins, the two of them talking with the stall owner and John saw one of Martins' candy bars being handed over to a very curious trader.

His Rillaton finished, John looked round for a trashcan. Ford had eaten his Rillaton in record time it seemed and John hadn't noticed what he had done with the stick. John was just contemplating putting the intensely sticky stick in his pocket when he spied a barrel into which someone dropped an empty bag. John moved across to it and peered in to see that it was a trashcan so he dropped the stick into it.

"Sir, you look like a man who values the good quality of fine garments," a trader announced abruptly stepping forward from his stall. "Perhaps new trousers or a dress for your mate?"

John smiled at the sales talk, far too similar to any on Earth. "No, I'm good, thanks."

"Surely you cannot allow your mate to go without such fine garments as these!" The trader replied gesturing to his wares.

"I don't have a mate," John replied with a polite smile as he backed away. "But as soon as I do, I'll certainly be back."

The trader opened his mouth to say something else, but John turned away quickly and saw that Woolsey had moved on from the waistcoat stall, a cloth bag handing from his shoulder, and the others were following. Abas was beaming, presumably at having helped make the first trade for Atlantis.

As a group, they wandered down the avenue of stalls, relaxed enough. As they paused by one large stall laden with random bits and pieces that looked like they belonged in a gadget shop, John noticed a small group of kids all gathered close by. A man dressed in bright sparkling clothes was waving two flowers through the air, pretending to eat one and making the kids laugh. The other flower was held up to one side and then the other side, all with the flair of a magician, and then the flower disappeared in a flash and the kids all gasped. The sparkling man opened his empty hands with exaggerated shock. John watched as the man pretended to look under his shoes, then behind him, then all through his sparkle-laden hair, the kids laughing excitedly.

The sparkling man noticed John watching among the parents and he smiled and stepped towards John, reaching forward with one hand. John knew what was coming and leant forward. The magician reached just behind his ear and magically the flower was back in the man's hand. The kids all gasped and giggled. The sparkling man began bowing deeply to his youthful audience as John turned away again, to see that Woolsey had again found something interesting to talk to a stall owner about. Lorne was passing over two chocolate bars for a handful of what looked like a dark electronic pad that was probably broken, but Lorne would trade it to McKay or Zelenka easy enough.

John moved over to another stall, peering over the shoulders of two short Athosian women. The stall was filled with figurines of various designs. There were painted masks hanging from the top and sides of the stall, all elaborately scary faces, a couple of which looked too similar to Wraith for John's liking, but the small figurines across the table were interesting. There were various creatures that John didn't recognise, and a couple that were almost familiar. Including, one in particular that was a rearing lizard with wide neck spines spread around its snarling face – Ketra's species. John grinned at the familiar creature. Beside it was another one in a different posture, this time more friendly with a noble expression. For a second John thought of buying one for Teyla, but then thought better of it, for she had a real live version in her own quarters. John didn't know if it would be a lame kind of gift for an Athosian, or for an Elite at that.

He stepped away from the stall and looked up ahead to Tjaru, which was now much closer than before. This avenue of stalls would take them up closer to the open flatter area before the Gateway that was, apparently, where there were displays and, hopefully, the dark blue banners Teyla had mentioned. He couldn't see any banners from here, but he was still too far away and too low from the level of the Gateway. They would get closer soon enough.

As Woolsey and Abas led them on further down the avenue, John consulted his little carnival map again.

"Look at this," Ford called from John's right, where he was pointing to a food stall. Martins stopped as well and they wandered over. "This looks like cotton candy," Ford said pointing to the light fluffy collection of green candyfloss.

"It is spun sugar," the stall owner. "Only two credits today, three credits for two sugars."

"How about two sugars for this unique and tasty treat?" Ford offered in turn, pulling out a chocolate bar.

The stall owner took the bar and sniffed at its wrapper with little enthusiasm. "What is it?"

"A sweet treat made from the ground beans of an exotic plant," Ford replied, working the salesman thing himself. "Have that one, see what you think."

John glanced away to see that Woolsey and Lorne had stopped at a nearby stall, buying themselves something to eat. John looked back to see Ford's chocolate bar was being well received.

"I will take three more of these, and you can have two spun sugars and a main serving. I have flower leaf wrapped tava bean cake, grilled samil cakes, and lightly spiced samil in a sweet grain roll, a favourite to Athosians."

The exchange was made and John shared half of the large samil cake with Ford, which was basically a burger, while Martins exchanged chocolate bars for a tava bean thing and a filled sweet grain roll.

Munching on their food, Lorne and Woolsey chewing on their own burger versions, they all walked down the rest of the avenue without buying anything else. The food was good, and the candyfloss turned out to taste practically the same as it did back on Earth.

"Hello again," a familiar voice called out as they reached the end of the avenue. To the right, Jaladon, Jalada's shorter other half, stepped out of the crowd. "It is good to see you here."

"Greetings, Jaladon," Woolsey replied with a nod.

"I see that you have already found something in trade," he asked indicating the cloth bag on Woolsey's shoulder and maybe he had seen Lorne and Martins' fuller vest pockets.

"It's a wonderful carnival," Woolsey replied. "Is the Ambassador with you?"

"I was just rejoining her," Jaladon replied. "She is further towards the city. She enjoys the games and the displays particularly. Would you like to walk with me?"

"That'd be great," John replied for the group, glad for the excuse to head up towards the displays near the Gateway.

They headed on up the field, past more sparkly dressed magicians, a fire-eater and more stalls, but as the slope grew steeper, the sellers had instead set out their wares on the grass. Most of what there was to offer here were pots and carpets. The group wandered around them all, Jaladon and Abas describing some of the designs from other worlds.

The top of the slope abruptly levelled out and the Gateway towered over them to the right. Here, where normally there was wide, flat open ground leading towards the Gateway, now it was filled with stands, tables, some stalls, raised plinths, and some large tents. John's eye was immediately drawn towards the dark blue banners flapping on tall poles in the distance. He couldn't see anything more than that, but he felt a rush of excitement. There wasn't any music up here, but the music of the various bands playing below were drifting up as a constant background noise to the talking and cheering from the left. Jaladon led them on, past stalls and groups of tables around which people were crowded.

They found Jalada with Charin, both of them handling fabrics laid out across wide tables. They both turned and smiled widely.

"It is good to see you here," Charin seemed particularly pleased to see them. "Torren will be most pleased to see you enjoying yourselves."

"It is a wonderful event," Mr Woolsey replied. "Is Torren enjoying it himself?"

"He is back in the complex, focused on greeting Rhakshar's family who arrived not too long ago."

"They have already walked through most of the carnival," Jalada added. "They looked very happy and excited themselves, especially about tomorrow."

"Ah, yes, I trust everything is running smoothly for the wedding day?" Woolsey asked.

"As much as any event such as a wedding ever can be," Charin replied with a knowing wise smile. "As always there are the small issues, however, all will be arranged as it should be by tomorrow. I will pass along to Torren that you are all enjoying today. You may also be pleased to learn that Representative Garthew is very impressed by your people," Charin told Woolsey with a smile. "Representative Fovea of Xinda, Rhakshar's home world as you know, is also very intrigued to meet you soon." Her smile moved to John, and he worked to look pleased.

"I had hoped to meet Representative Fovea last night at he banquet," Woolsey replied.

"There may be an opportunity later today perhaps," Charin continued as she glanced around. "Representative Garthew would be pleased to speak with you again. He was at the displays a short time ago, but I suspect he has made his way to the throwing and wrestling competitions. Despite his status, he always participates in such events."

That wasn't a surprise to John, the guy clearly valued anything military and it seemed that had worked to their advantage. From what Torren had told them, Garthew was from one of the most influential worlds within the Alliance, so even if he wasn't the nicest guy John had met, that Garthew appreciated Atlantis so far, could work really well for them. That said, John had hoped to stay away from such thinking today. He had hoped to just enjoy the carnival and maybe find Teyla again. He looked away towards the banners as subtly as he could, pretending he was looking in the direction Charin had indicated Garthew had gone to participate in wrestling or whatever.

The blue banners stood high over the stalls and displays, and the faint breeze across the plateau to Tjaru, flapped the banners away from the tall poles.

"Perhaps you may find some other opportunities today," Charin continued to them, and John looked back round to her. "This stall for example," she indicated the tables at which she and Jalada had been stood, "is run by a cousin of mine. She trades in fine cloth and designed clothing with many worlds. I would be happy to introduce you," she invited to Woolsey.

"We would be honoured to meet her," Woolsey replied, the politician smooch turned on a full volume again.

As the others all turned towards Charin's cousin's stall, John looked away towards the blue banners again. There were a lot of people in that direction, but there was suddenly some movement in the crowd, and John realised that the people were stood around something. A small break in the throng, afforded John a very brief glimpse of what was going on inside. At this distance, it was difficult to tell, but it looked like there was an open space at the centre, and in the middle of it, stood a massive dark man. It had to be Si, because no one else could wear that much weaponry and still be standing. John's heart leapt. The banners indicated the Elite.

He turned, determined now, and moved to Woolsey's side in the crowd around the clothing stall, pushing in close to catch the politician's attention subtly. Woolsey looked round.

"The Elite are over there," John told him, indicating the direction with a nod of his head. "Under the blue flags. I'm going to go see if I know any of them."

Woolsey nodded immediately. "Take Lieutenant Ford with you though," he replied, surprising John slightly.

"I was," John replied with a nod as he stepped back and glanced over at Ford. "Ford," he called and moved away. A rush of relief filled John, making him feel instantly more relaxed, and it was joined with that same bubbling excitement he always felt when he thought he might be seeing Teyla soon.

Ford quickly caught up with him, falling into step at his side. "Where we going?"

"Somewhere more interesting," John replied, knowing Ford would appreciate that too.

"I don't know, Charin's cousin seemed interesting enough," Ford replied grinning as he looked back over his shoulder.

"Roll your tongue back in," John teased him, making a good speed around the stalls and displays towards the banners.

Ford looked back at him with a teasing look of his own. "Like you haven't been looking out for a certain someone."

"I don't know what you mean, _Lieutenant_," John replied.

"Yeah, right," Ford muttered, but he was distracted by the fact that they had reached the outskirts of the large crowd under the banners.

The crowd was thick, everyone happily pressed tightly close to each other, especially the further towards the centre. Looking over shoulders and between heads, all John could see was the back of a tent at the far end, and that the poles holding the banners led down to a fenced space, in the centre of which he could see Si' baldhead.

There was a loud single pained grunt from that centre space and immediately the crowd all groaned and then cheered loudly, applauding and laughing.

John and Ford reached the back of the crowd, but it was far too thick to see anymore, though John had already guessed what was going on inside the fenced area. He led Ford around the outskirts of the crowd, who were all making encouraging noises, then they all gasped, groaned, and then launched into mad applause again.

Finally, John found an area where the crowd was thinner and he squeezed into the press of people, managing to get an elbow between to applauding men, and finally he had a clear enough view of the subject of the cheering. As he had guessed, the fenced off area was clearly a fighting space, with a thin layer of sand spread across it and in the centre stood Si. There was also another man, who was currently being helped up off the sand, to limp away. The crowd were still applauding.

"What's going on?" Ford asked John, squeezing in close behind him.

A woman in front of them looked round at them, glancing down at their uniforms. "The Athosian Elite, they are allowing challenges."

"As if anyone will gain anything more than a broken limb to even try," the man to Ford's right laughed.

"Why do you not try, Teasi?" Someone asked him. "Go on; see how long you can last against them."

The man lost his smile and John saw the peer pressure mounting on the guy.

"I am soon to be a father, I will do my wife no good if I cannot hold our new child," he replied, latching onto the excuse and he was elbowed and shoved good-naturedly in response.

"I will tell her of your fear, Brother," the other man told him laughing.

"You try," Teasi replied, "and I will tell my wife, your sister, what trouble you truly get up to."

There was more laughter and some more shoving, but it seemed that someone else had volunteered on the other side of the fighting space. Everyone leant forward and John managed to wedge himself further between two people, who seemed happy to give him a bit of room.

"Time this one, see how long he lasts," Teasi' brother-in-law said.

"I bet one credit he lasts a full minute this time," someone stated.

"Two credits," someone responded.

The woman stood in front of John, against whose shoulder blade he was wedged, lifted a pad and tapped away on it. More bets were shouted out and John watched her fast fingers tapping away quickly.

A cheer went up across the fighting space and John leant a little further forward around the bookie as she worked. He saw the nervous new man slipping through the fencing to move cautiously across the sand. He looked really nervous as he clutched his two spindly bantos rods. People were betting more and more around John, but the rest of the spectators were quietening down.

Si had been stood to the side, waiting, and he now turned towards the new challenger and set his heavy weighted stare on the poor man.

John had forgotten how truly big Si was. He had to be a couple of inches taller than John, his shoulders were as wide as an ox, and he was so thickly layered with muscle that he would put any bodybuilder back on Earth to shame. Added to that bulk, the guy had enough weaponry strapped to him to win an entire war by himself. The crazy thing was, and John remembered this far too acutely, despite Si's size and muscle mass, he could move so fast it was unreal. How could someone that big be so fast? It wasn't normal, but then, he was an Elite for a reason. John had seen the Elite fighting Wraith, had watched them hold off an entire tidal wave of Wraith, fighting hand to hand. John had never seen anything like that, and he had been right in the middle of that defensive circle. The Elite had literally stood between him and an army of monsters. That experience, if others had not before, had cemented John's respect for them.

And here Si now stood, in the middle of a cheering crowd, laden with weaponry and his hands suspiciously empty of any bantos rods. The poor anxious challenger gripped his bantos rods tightly, but John they would do the guy no good. Si smiled down at the man and stepped solidly forward, and waited for the man to make his first move.

John had sparred with Si once before, and he remembered how it had felt to have that heavy powerful stare centred on you.

The man edged closer to Si, his posture the classic basic bantos stance. He edged to one side, but Si held still, watching him with that faintly teasing grin. John could tell that Si was enjoying himself.

The man took his moment and swung out a strike towards Si's arm and closest leg.

Si reached out and grabbed the offending rod that had been aimed at his arm, ignoring the one headed towards his tree wide thigh. He twisted his grip on the rod, twisting the man's arm with it, and he reached in with his other hand. The man tried to move away, but Si was too quick. The man's back hit the ground hard as the crowded cheered. Si threw aside the rod he had pulled from the man's grasp and stepped back, giving the man another chance. The man coughed loudly, but he stood up quickly again, one rod still in his hand. Everyone shouted encouragement.

"He's lasted almost a minute," someone announced behind John's shoulder.

"Never, the attack lasted a second if that," someone responded.

John glanced at the bookie woman in front of him and saw a timer at the top of the pad. He didn't understand the symbols, but the way they were set out was enough. The woman had paused the timer and was poised with her thumb over the control ready to start it again. John looked back to the action.

The man failed with another quick attack, but had stepped back immediately. He decided on a different tactic and dropped his rod to the sand and rushed at Si. He wrapped his arms around Si's middle, hoping presumably to topple the bigger guy. The crowd shouted and laughed.

Si didn't budge an inch, instead he held up his arms in a shrug for the crowd who laughed harder. The man struggled further, and managed to get Si to take half a step backwards, but then Si finally responded. He grabbed the guy, twisted and the man hit the ground again, only this Si had followed him down and was already wrapping him up into a grappling pin. The man shouted his surrender a second later. The crowd cheered and applauded. John looked at the woman's timer next to him.

"It was just under twenty two seconds and only because the Honoured Elite let him struggle for a few moments," she reported with amusement and there were groans. "That's twelve you own me, Teasi. Your wife will have noting to clothe your new babe at this rate." Everyone laughed around them.

Smiling, enjoying the action and the banter around him, John looked back into the fighting area, only to see that Si had noticed him in the crowd.

"Sheppard!" Si called with amusement in his voice. John nodded and managed to lift a hand in greeting in the tightly pressed crowd.

"Come Sheppard, you will challenge me," Si ordered waving one large muscular arm invitingly towards the sandy ground.

Uh oh.

The crowd all began twisting round to look at each other, wondering to whom Si was talking.

"No, thanks," John called back to Si, all eyes focusing on him. "I learnt my lesson the last time," he added, hoping it was allowed to turn down an Elite's demand to spar.

"You may have improved," Si suggested and everyone laughed.

This wasn't going well.

John desperately tried to think how to get himself out of this.

"I know better than to fight an unarmed and smiling Elite warrior," John replied, praying that would be enough to back out of this situation. The crowd laughed at his comment.

"Very wise words, Major Sheppard," another familiar voice responded though, and John looked round to see Halling slipping into the fighting area.

John had forgotten how tall he was, and his hair looked longer, tied back to fall against his slimmer, but no less powerful, shoulders.

"And you have started to learn bantos, I understand," Halling added as he stood directly opposite John across the fighting area. Si was never going to let it go now. "Fight him with bantos rods, Si," Halling called to Si with a grin. "Give him a fighting chance at least."

There was more laughter from the amused and curious audience around John, and hands clapped on his back and shoulders, presumably in an encouraging way.

In front of John, the bookie leant back closer to him. "How long did you last against him last time?" She whispered.

"Come, Sheppard, I will fight you with bantos then," Si conceded.

More claps on John's back, accompanied by the start of some betting, meant that he just wasn't going to get out of this without losing face for Atlantis. Well, at least no one had said he was from Atlantis yet, and most of those around him were Athosians who might not know his uniform yet.

John glanced at Ford just behind him.

"You want me to hold your jacket for you again?" Ford offered with a wide grin.

John narrowed his eyes at him and turned away, but hands were pushing at him now.

"There are rods down this side, by the tent wall," the bookie told John. "How long did you last against him last time?" She asked hurriedly again as he squeezed past her in the direction everyone was encouraging him. "A rough estimate," she asked her pad held close.

"A minute or two?" John guessed. The last time he had sparred with Si the Elite had clearly been holding back and John had spent most of his time ducking and weaving away from his strikes. Only to be pounded down by them.

"Who will bet two minutes on the stranger?" The bookie called out loudly to the crowd around her.

John winced as he moved through the helpfully parting crowd towards the tent set at the end of the fighting space. There were lines of bantos rods leant up the tent's sidewall. He picked up a couple, testing their weight to buy himself some time. He looked around, hoping that Teyla would suddenly appear to help stop this, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

He would blame her for this later.

He selected the rods that felt the closest to what he had trained with before and, very reluctantly, he ducked down under the top bar of the fence and stepped into the ring.

As he straightened, he noticed that the wall of the tent overlooking the ring was lined with wooden boards and that five pieces of fruit had been knifed through into the wood. John wondered if the fruit had been balanced on peoples' heads before the knife had hit them or if the fruit had been thrown in the air for the Elite to hit.

Holding his rods as confidently as he could, John moved forward across the sand towards Si, who was smiling as he swung round some bantos rods in his massive hands. The tiny sticks looked like they would simply break in his hands. Maybe that would happen and Si would be disqualified? John doubted Elite took that excuse.

"A challenge from a warrior of Atlantis," Halling announced loudly and suddenly the noise of the crowd increased tenfold.

John glanced at Ford who had been given space right at the fence to watch John get his butt kicked. Ford gave him a double thumbs up as John stopped at a decent distance from Si.

"Technically you challenged me," John pointed out to Si and the crowd laughed, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Si laughed himself and stepped forward, bringing them into sparring distance so John lifted his bantos rods. He needed to remember everything Teyla had taught him, and he needed to reduce as much damage to himself as possible. Abas said Tjaru had a hospital so surely they could set broken bones.

The crowd quietened down in anticipation. Si swung his rods idly at his sides, smiling, but focused now. Focusing on kicking John's butt.

The main thing John had learnt in sparring with Elite already was that he wasn't going to start the round. He needed to be on the defensive to last at least a couple of minutes, so he held ready and waited for Si to move first.

The strategy lasted all of two seconds before Si took one large muscular step forward and swung both his bantos rods towards John's head.

How had he gotten himself in this situation _again_?

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>TBC<p> 


	20. Rescue

**Note:** I promised this one would be quick, and I plan the next chapter to be quickly posted as well, because these three chapters (19-21) are essentially one scene, but it would be far too long to post in one go. So, all the build up you've all been patiently reading is now heading towards the proverbial turning fan and we all know what happens then…

0000

**Chapter 20 - Rescue**

Oneakka devoured the two clumps of spun sugar. Though Elite did not like to take food that wasn't prepared by those they trusted, there were some exceptions and the spun sugar that was prepared for all to see and served to children was deemed safe enough. It also seemed to be a favourite of Oneakka's. He had already eaten several of them on the way to the Governing Buildings and now several more on the way back, for each trader who saw him enjoying another trader's sugar immediately offered him another, a gift for the Elite.

Aside from the spun sugar, Oneakka appeared to be enjoying the carnival overall. He had seemed far more positive about attending when Teyla and Halling had informed him that they intended to accept challenges.

The challenges were always interesting events and usually followed a set pattern. Anyone could challenge the Elite in the fighting space, with the knowledge that they could be injured very easily, but most took it as the enjoyable show of Elite skill that it was.

At the start of the day, when the fighting space was only just established, and the carnival long from beginning, the first challengers could always be trusted to arrive. These first challenges were predictable in their appearance and attitude at such events. They were those who either doubted the Elite's skills or believed themselves superior, some of which hoped to become Elite in turn. In the dawn light this morning, those first challengers had arrived and she and Oneakka had accepted the challenges immediately, and moved through all of them quickly and efficiently, neither of them holding back any force or power. It was the best way to deal with such people, to be decisive and clear on the true skill, power and violence of the Elite. It was rare to find any potential Elite in the first wave of challengers. Most of the current Elite had been discovered long before they had reached adulthood, some even in their infancy. However, the challenges did often reveal skills in other areas, and it provided an environment for those with family members perhaps of interest to the Elite, to step forward and talk with Elite. The overriding reason for the challenges though, was for the average member of the Alliance to be able to witness the skill of the Elite who protect them from the Wraith. It was important for people to have faith in the Elite, to feel and enjoy their freedom and safety from the monsters of the past.

There had been no potential Elite discovered today so far, but Teyla had spoken with two fathers this morning, who both had teenage children who they felt excelled in their technological skills, one of which Teyla had already known about. Technological, tactical or any other number of skills were just as useful to the Elite as warriors. Another man, an official from a small trading moon settlement had approached to tell her of a young woman from his village who was taller and stronger than most, and who seemed to be tiring of her farming life in the village. Teyla had passed the details through to the Elite training facility and, depending on who was available, an Elite would be visiting the young woman within a day. One visit would likely be all that would be needed to tell if this woman would be useful to the Elite, and importantly, willing to be a student.

Oneakka wasn't approached for such conversations, understandably, so he had spent a great deal of time meeting the challenges of the morning's challengers. He had been shut in with new recruits too long he had said. There had been many broken noses and limbs among the first arrogant challengers, though he had pulled his punches somewhat with those who followed during the rest of the morning and, clearly, Oneakka had enjoyed himself. Teyla had as well, meeting more challenges than she had bothered to count. After the long morning was complete, Si and Halling had arrived and taken over, allowing her and Oneakka time to head up to the Governing Buildings for their mid meal. Teyla had also needed to officially greet Rhakskar's family who had arrived this morning. Oneakka had joined her in meeting them and had spoken with Father briefly before they had left the political smiling behind. Zabetha had been beaming at Rhakshar's side.

Teyla had asked Oneakka's opinion of Rhakshar as they had left the Governing Buildings, but he had simply shrugged and summed him up simply - "A trader and manager."

Yet another male opinion she trusted who saw nothing untoward about Rhakshar. She sensed no danger from Rhakshar, but there was still something in him that made her cautious, but Si, Halling, Oneakka and John all thought him kind and polite. She trusted her Elite brothers and John's opinions on reading people, their combined opinions creating even more weight to their mutual view of Rhakshar. However, there was still something in Rhakshar's manner when he was around her that made her cautious. How could both views of him be correct? Teyla was beginning to suspect that perhaps, in this one instance, her instincts were truly clouded by emotions. She was unsure why that would be, for she was pleased enough for her sister to be so happy in her choice of political marriage.

Oneakka wrapped a long trail of spun sugar from its supportive stick around one of his fingers. She smiled at him beside her as he happily chewed on the sugar.

"I am glad you decided to join us today," she told him as they walked through the Gateway, as usual given space and immediate clearance through all the guards' checks.

"It's been more interesting that the recruits," he muttered as he went to work at the last part of his treat. There were no more sugar stands around the displays, so it might have to be his last for a while.

"They are new and will learn," Teyla reminded him, as she had said about almost every wave of recruits that entered the Elite training facility. "We started the same way," she added and then corrected herself, "well, perhaps not you."

Oneakka grinned, his face, one side of which was deeply scared from chin to hairline, looked bright in the sunlight. The story of his wound was not a pleasant one, and she knew that few of Elite knew the full tale. Many Elite sported deep wounds, however, Oneakka's face had not been disfigured with a simple blade. There had been a chemical on the blade, which had burnt into the wound, savaging and distorting the cut far worse than any simple cut would have done. It had almost been the death of him.

He had been young then, and had left his Elite training too early, seeking out a particularly deadly Queen who had been responsible for the death of Oneakka's entire people. He had sought blood vengeance too soon, before his skills had been refined and developed. No one else would have survived, especially as he had not only killed the Queen, but also had completely destroyed the base in which she had lived. After Oneakka had finished, there had been nothing but a massive burning wreck, out of which he himself had barely escaped, his facial wounds only worsened by the savages of battle in a burning base. He had needed extensive surgery when he was rescued and he had lain near death in an Elite medical bay for some time afterwards. He had fully recovered though and had become strong once more, and he had sported his wounds with pride. He had fashioned his won tattoos since around the facial scars, highlighting them for all to see, the black ink standing out sharply against his very pale complexion.

In Teyla's opinion, Oneakka was one of the most skilled Elite who had ever lived. He frequently said that he would die on the battlefield, but Teyla suspected, hoped, that such a day would be far in the future. His natural skill, determination, drive and hard won experience meant that he had not met a single Wraith who truly had a chance of stopping him. He seemed to have no fear, throwing himself into situations that would kill anyone else, but he was so fast, so skilled, that he could do what no one else could. She admired him greatly and considered him a good friend. It had taken time for their friendship to form, but it was unbreakable now. Once Oneakka gave his approval and then his friendship – not even death could break it.

However, he was not always the most cheerful and engaging company, but she still enjoyed his presence. She watched him pick the last remains of his spun sugar from the last stick he had been given and she considered leading him down to the stalls to find him some more. However, she heard the sound of clashing rods and an exceptionally loud cheer lifted up from the challenging area. It sounded like someone with some skill had been found, at least to last slightly longer than most.

The crowd around the fighting area was particularly deep now and they were so intent on what was going on that they did not notice her and Oneakka approach behind them.

"Sounds like potential," Oneakka declared as he threw his bare sugar stick over hand through the tiny space between people that led to the rubbish bin.

His throw, over three metres and towards a small target between the moving close press of the crowd had, of course, been perfect. It also announced their arrival and people near the bin all snapped their heads round with wide shocked eyes at seeing Oneakka's shot, and immediately a path through the crowd opened up for her and Oneakka. Those right at the front who had not seen them were quickly tugged aside by friends so that a clear path to the fence was opened. Teyla inclined her head in acknowledgement of the path, and then she saw who was fighting Si in the fighting area.

Typical, she mused to herself as she approached.

John ducked below Si's fast sweep, dipping and rolling away, and the crowd all made surprised appreciative noises. Teyla reached the fence and crossed her arms over the top bar to watch the show, shaking her head and promising herself that she would not save him this time. He had to learn not to get into so much trouble.

"Sheppard!" Oneakka announced in realisation and chuckled loudly with glee.

If John had heard the laugh he didn't react, he was too busy meeting Si's next barrage of strikes. John almost fell under them, but he spun away, using speed against Si and struck at the side of Si's shoulder. He only just missed for Si swung round in response, taking John's legs out from under him. He went down hard to the chorus of sympathetic noises from the crowd.

John coughed loudly within the raised cloud of dust and sand his fall created, and Teyla saw his eyes widen as Si reached down for him. The crowd shouted excitedly, clearly on both sides of the match.

Si pulled John up enough to get his arms around John, squeezing him into a full body lock. John tried to resist, kicking and forcing one hand up under Si's chin to push him away, but it was only vaguely successful. Si laughed as John muttered curses at him that sounded playful despite the way his breath was being forced from him.

"He's a scrawny thing," Oneakka shouted.

Si looked over his shoulder to them and smiled. It gave John the break he needed and he swung his free hand, connecting a good punch to Si' right cheek. Si reacted more from surprise than anything else and grunted. John followed through on his opening and attempted to knee Si between the legs. Si pushed John away to keep away from the attack.

Teyla grinned and Oneakka laughed.

John struggled up onto his feet and quickly backed away from Si, and the two men circled each other. John looked tired and had a few drops of blood dripping from a small break in his skin near his hairline, but he appeared to be somewhat enjoying the fight, most likely because he was lasting longer than most.

"Get him, get him in the family jewels," Lieutenant Ford's voice shouted from over to the right, and Teyla leant forward to see him leant over the fence's top bar. Teyla suspected the 'family jewels' referred to Si's manhood area.

The circling had brought John closer to his fallen bantos rods and he swept them up quickly, backing away for some more distance as he did. Si did not bother to pick up his released rods, he instead lifted both hands up into the air towards John, and, with a grin, made a challenging gesture.

"Get him, Sheppard. Get him!" Ford shouted loudly again, clearly caught up in the action along with everyone else.

Si was advancing on John, pushing him backwards into a corner of the fighting space and Teyla saw John realise. He had to attack to stop himself from being pinned in one corner. He threw out two alternating attacks, of which she was rather proud, since he had only learnt them two days ago. Si blocked one hit on the back of his forearm, which would have shattered anyone else's bones, and he unfortunately got a good grip on the rod and pulled John sharply forward. John, however, was smart and let go of the rod, and spun aside, literally running for more space. The crowd laughed in delight.

Si followed quickly though and tackled John around the middle, taking him down to the sand in a rush of movement and a cloud of dust. John was in trouble now, for Si was unbeatable in grappling. Teyla watched as John tried to kick free, twisting his body, but Si had a good grip and tugged John towards him and under his superior weight. John's finger marks were visible in the sand as he was pulled away. Teyla had to restrain herself from expressing her first reaction to show her bias for John, and simply held still watching John twist under Si, attempting to get a lock around Si' neck.

Si rolled them to squeeze John under his weight and John cursed at him loudly, but again it had the feeling of play despite the discomfort, perhaps pain, he was feeling.

"His hip, Sheppard," Oneakka shouted from beside Teyla, "His left hip is weakest."

Teyla looked incredulously round at Oneakka next to her where he was excitedly watching the fight.

John had heard him it seemed for he shifted his body, and reached out towards a fallen rod that was close by. Teyla watched his fingers stretch the ultimate extra tiny distance that he needed to reach it, only for the rod to be brushed further away by his touch. The crowded expressed their disappointment along with John, but Si had seen the move and John had to change tactics. He swung his fist down and punched into the side of Si' left hip while he simultaneously heaved his weight up and twisted. It might have worked on any warrior other than an Elite, it might have given him space, but Si simply chuckled and lifted, grabbed John's punching wrist in his hand, twisted and rolled John into a lock which he would not be able to escape.

The crowd recognised John's predicament and groaned, and then cheered.

John struggled for a moment, aware of the end, but he kept fighting for a moment still, looking for an exit, but finally relaxed into the sand. The crowd applauded loudly and Si lifted his weight up off John, letting the crowd see the near knot he had twisted John's body into under him. John lay on the sand for a second, drawing a full breath, likely the first time since they had hit the ground, and then rolled himself over and stood up with clear aches and pains in evidence, but he was whole and smiling well enough. He stood upright and leant backwards to click his back, his uniform covered with dust and sand. Si clapped him abruptly on the shoulder, staggering John forward, which he perhaps exaggerated slightly. John grinned round at Si, who smiled back. They said something that Teyla could not hear, for the bets were being claimed loudly around the crowd and much discussion was clearly starting about the warriors from Atlantis.

John turned from Si and saw her, though perhaps he had noticed her while he had been fighting, she wasn't sure.

"Sheppard," Oneakka stated as he slipped under the upper bar of the fence and approached John. Teyla followed behind him. "You need to put on more muscle than that."

John grinned at Oneakka, clearly pleased at the gibe that was becoming common between them, in which Oneakka repeatedly informed John that he needed more muscle on him.

"Thanks for the advice, for all the good it'd did me against him," John told Oneakka, indicating Si. Halling moved to join them as well, slipping back into the fighting space.

"You did most admirably," Halling told John as he approached.

"Thanks," John replied, slightly winded still, and he ran one hand over his hair, dislodging more dust.

Lieutenant Ford was moving around the outside of the fence to move closer and Teyla smiled at him in greeting before she reached John.

"How'd I do?" John asked her with a smile.

"Very well," she replied. "Though I believe I suggested that you _not_ tell them about your learning bantos."

"Halling already knew," John objected, smiling brightly. "Because you told him, so I'm blaming you for this."

She smiled at the turn of the tables, and the flirtation in his eyes that was heightened by the adrenaline still in his system. Males enjoyed it when you watched them fight and appreciated their skills.

"You seem to always find your way into trouble without my help," she pointed out to him.

He angled his head in faint agreement as Lieutenant Ford arrived close to them on the other side of the fencing.

"Good day to you, Lieutenant Ford," she greeted him. "Did you also challenge Si?" She asked to be polite and tease John slightly with her question and attention.

"No, Ma'am, I wouldn't dare," Lieutenant Ford said quickly, but she sensed that he would actually quite like the chance to test his own skills against Elite. She knew, however, that he was not experienced enough yet, and she acknowledged that wisdom in him with a nod.

"You are enjoying the carnival?" She asked as she and John moved towards Lieutenant Ford, while Oneakka, Halling, and Si stood to one side discussing the results of the earlier knife display that could be seen against the far wall of the tent.

Teyla also suspected that they would draw a close to the challenges now. It was good to end the event on a good fight and those around the fences had likely lost or won well on John's challenge. For the rest of the day, her fellow Elite would be present to talk and answer fighting questions, to show and teach rather than fight. It was another element of such challenges, that those of the Alliance could learn from them. On Athos it worked especially well, for her people were polite and very keen to learn and talk with most people. On other worlds, Elite simply left once the challenges were complete, but here, on Athos, surrounded by so many keen and curious faces, and so close to the bantos finals, most would want to talk fighting styles. Teyla knew that Vako and his team would be visiting Halling and Si soon to train for all to see, and others could join in if they wished.

Teyla however had planned to spend the rest of her day with Charin and family, and, as she had hoped, in John's company for as much time as was possible.

"I assume Mr Woolsey is close by?" Teyla asked as they reached the fence and ducked through. The crowd had dispersed slightly now, but there were still many around.

At this end of the displays, there were other competitions of skill, including throwing small darts, weights, and spears, as well as wrestling and other fighting skills. She had seen Garthew and Thadeu heading in that direction when she had left for the Governing Buildings, and she suspected that they would still be there for some time to come.

"Yes, we found Representative Charin and Ambassador Jalada in the crowd," John replied as he brushed his trousers and jacket down, then again brushed his hair free from dust. Lieutenant Ford helped by brushing down the back of John's shoulders. Teyla tried not to smile too much at the image.

"I had hoped to see Charin," Teyla considered.

"They were over near her cousin's stall," John replied, as he smiled at her. "Shall we?" He suggested.

"I will accompany you," Teyla replied formally in front of everyone else and she and John turned away from the fighting space and moved into the crowd. "Have you walked round all the stalls?" She asked.

"We worked our way up here from the Gate side of the stalls, but not much else," John explained indicating the far right side of the fields stretched out below the rise upon which they and Tjaru looked down. "Saw some magicians, fire eaters and jugglers," John supplied with another one of his enjoyable smiles, clearing enjoying his visit and pleased with his sparring with Si.

"And clearly more enjoyable that sitting talking in the Governing Buildings," she replied, knowing that he would be glad not to have to spend today with politicians. She hoped that once they had met with Charin and Mr Woolsey that perhaps she and John could walk down to some of the stalls neither of them had visited yet.

"It depends who you're talking to," John replied to her comment, the flirtation still very apparent in his voice and he had leant faintly closer and spoken quieter so that Lieutenant Ford had not heard.

She mused that after one evening together, chasing Ketra for the most part, and then sharing just a single moment of pure attraction, that the atmosphere between them had changed. As she had prepared for bed last night, she had considered a conversation she had shared with Charin last night when they had both retired from the dining room together. Charin, perhaps having spoken with Elkaska before, had remarked that John was a very handsome man. Teyla had replied that he was an able warrior, which had seemed to amuse Charin. Charin had replied that there was nothing wrong with Teyla enjoying John's company, and then she had turned the conversation onto Father's latest trading plans. The advice had played on Teyla's mind since, and now walking beside John, she could appreciate the value in the advice, for after today she had no idea when she would, or if, she would see John again. There was nothing wrong with enjoying his company without concern or doubt, and it seemed that John, adrenaline in his system, pleased with his performance against Si, and possibly pleased to see her, was taking advantage of the slightly altered atmosphere between them. She wondered if he had been thinking about her last night.

That thought was interrupted though as she saw Charin and Mr Woolsey ahead. They were studying a table of bottled fruits. Charin was explaining the different combinations and the fermenting process for some of the stronger bottle contents. Mr Woolsey seemed very interested and perhaps he was looking for what his people might wish in trade from Father and her people.

Charin noticed her, John and Lieutenant Ford approaching and she smiled at them.

"I thought that perhaps a particularly interesting opponent had been fighting in the challenging space," Charin said. "We heard the cheering and gasps from here. Were they for you, John?" She asked with a smile looking down at his dusty uniform.

"Um, yes, sorry," John muttered as he again worked to improve the appearance of his black uniform. "That was me."

"He challenged Si," Teyla informed Charin with a smile.

"Actually he challenged me," John pointed out, which she had already assumed, but had not said so to tease him.

Mr Woolsey frowned down at John's uniform with a distinct air of disapproval. Teyla bristled slightly at that – John had fought bravely.

"Major Sheppard fought nobly and seemed to gain much support from the crowd," she reported.

Mr Woolsey and Charin nodded in reply, both smiling, but she saw that Mr Woolsey was still frowning beneath it.

"Where's Lorne and Martins?" John asked looking around and clearly reaching for something else to discuss.

"They are over there," Mr Woolsey replied indicating the two men stood a short distance again, watching them across a wide games display. Teyla saw Major Lorne frowning a question at John's appearance, but John dismissed his attention with a wave and she saw Major Lorne and Lieutenant Martins exchange a smile.

"I thought I would take Major Sheppard and Lieutenant Ford to see the two stage displays down in the fields, if you wish to join us?" Teyla asked them politely as she should.

"That would be nice, but I hope not to walk so far," Charin replied and though Teyla knew it was a real concern, she saw a sparkle in Charin's eyes as well. "I am showing Mr Woolsey much of our food and crafts on display, so that he may have a greater understanding of what our people have to offer in trade to his people."

"Yes, it's been very enlightening," Mr Woolsey replied, honestly it seemed, but Teyla suspected that Major Lorne and Lieutenant Martins were not enjoying themselves bound to following him around. At least Teyla could allow John and Lieutenant Ford some space, though she would have preferred to walk solely with John.

"I would be happy to show Major Sheppard any Lieutenant Ford other Athosian stalls that we may see," Teyla offered.

"Thank you," Mr Woolsey replied and then his eyes slid to John. "Shall we meet up in…" he consulted the time device on his wrist, "an hour's time?" He suggested.

John looked at his own timekeeping device and nodded. "An hour. Back here?"

"Yes," Mr Woolsey replied.

"I would suggest we meet inside the Gateway," Charin suggested in her polite way, "There are many interesting craft stalls and demonstrations just inside the city walls that you should enjoy seeing, Mr Woolsey. Among them may likely be future trading partners."

"Very well," Mr Woolsey replied with a nod. "We'll meet inside the Gateway in an hour."

John nodded his agreement beside her and Mr Woolsey nodded politely to her. "Honoured Elite."

Teyla inclined her head and turned with John from the tables and they walked away, Lieutenant Ford behind them.

As they put several displays between them and Mr Woolsey, both John and Lieutenant Ford seemed to relax once again.

"Thanks for that," John said to her with a smile.

Teyla smiled in reply. "Consider it yet another rescue on my part."

0000  
>TBC<p> 


	21. Trouble

**Note:** Here we go…

0000

**Chapter 21 – Trouble**

The sun had broken through the clouds and was shining down across the fields below Tjaru, and John was really enjoying himself walking with Teyla through the carnival.

They were walking a wide circle round the left side of the fields, through the avenues of stalls that he and Ford hadn't seen. John wasn't looking at the stalls all that much though, instead he was enjoying the chance to just walk and talk with Teyla. Ford was walking further behind them, giving them some space, which had also allowed him the chance to do some proper shopping. John paused with Teyla frequently to wait for Ford as he traded small items he bought at other stalls for larger more interesting things in the next. Clearly, he was getting into the bartering thing, and it hadn't escaped John's notice that the traders were often pretty women, who seemed to respond to Ford's wide youthful flirtatious smiles.

John had been peppering Teyla with questions about the Elite's challenges as they walked. He had survived his tussle with Si with all his bones intact, though various parts of him were starting to ache, and one knee was a bit sore, but nothing that wouldn't heal up in a day or so. Clearly, again, Si had taken it easy on him. John wondered if Si had done it on purpose in front of the crowd.

"You think Si was taking it easy on me to put on a show for everyone?" John asked Teyla as they stood waiting for Ford, who was selling a colourful bead necklace in return for what looked like some kind of small string instrument.

"Si does not cater to other's needs," Teyla replied, somewhat carefully John thought.

He narrowed his eyes at her to let her know he wasn't sold on that answer. She was dressed in a long brown coat today, secured tightly around her middle, which showed off her toned waist and shapely hips, in his opinion. The front of the coat only reached her waist, while the sides were tailored out around her hips to make space for the gun on one hip and the long knife on the other. She was also wearing both her swords on her back again. He hadn't seen her wearing so much weaponry since they had raided Iketani' underground lair. Yet, despite the weapons and her controlled expressions for those around them, her eyes still seemed warm and bright as she smiled faintly up at him.

"I guess not," John replied, still not convinced that Si hadn't been soft on him. The last challenger had limped out of the ring, but John had been able to walk out.

Teyla glanced away, the dimple in her cheek just showing, suggesting she was trying not to smile in front of all the shoppers around them. Teyla got a lot of attention out in public; attracting more curious and nervous wide-eyed staring, or nods and the occasional bow as she passed people. The main exceptions were the traders, especially the guys who sold the candyfloss for some reason. Teyla had already turned down three offers of the stuff, politely saying that she had already had too much, but she had suggested that John and Ford might like them. The traders had seemed pleased with that. John had taken one, and Ford had eaten the next two that had been offered.

"So you find any potential Elite in the other challengers?" He asked as they continued on, Ford now ahead of them making a beeline for another stall.

"I do not believe so," Teyla replied as she nodded to a group who bowed at her as they passed. Several kids among them were loudly asking their parents questions about Teyla, who were quietly trying to answer as they steered the kids away from running up to Teyla. "Though perhaps someone will be found later."

"So, I guess, I didn't make the Elite cut?" John joked, wondering how much he could get her to smile with so many people watching.

"You lasted far longer than most," Teyla replied, her eyes moving over the crowd, far more on guard than when they had been alone in the Governing Buildings, but then he guessed that made sense. He didn't mind. "Yoda would be proud," she added, her dark eyes angling up to him from the corner of her wide eyes.

John grinned at her, pleased with the joke and that she had remembered what he had told her. If he personally brought nothing else to Pegasus, he had at least educated Teyla in the Force. Smiling to himself, John looked away to see that Ford had found another interesting stall and he was waving them over. "Lots like he's found something."

"His trading skills reflect well on Atlantis' possible future trading," Teyla replied with a more obvious smile as they made their way across to the stall where Ford was already talking with the trader.

However, as soon as the trader saw Teyla arrive, he practically tripped over his feet to get round his tables to meet her.

"Honoured Elite," he said with that mix of respect and excitement that all the other traders had shown at seeing her today. "I have some very interesting pieces to show you, if you are interested?"

The stall was quite a large tent, with three tables set inside, and all the other shoppers who had been inside evacuated quickly as soon as Teyla entered. It was another reminder how nervous people were around her. As John reached the central stall table, he glanced at her beside him. She was stood as straight and tall as her natural height allowed, her chin high and her expression controlled, and he guessed he could see that people could find her menacing, especially with all the weapons. The tattoos running down the left side of her neck, disappearing under the collar of her coat, stood out sharply in the shadow of the tent. He guessed she would seem threatening, but he just didn't see her that way anymore. He respected her skill perhaps more now than ever, but he had seen her smile properly, had sat eating at a banquet with her, and had even joined her on a mad dash through the Governing Buildings to find Ketra before Mino. Then there had been that stirring moment between them last night, stood in her nice Athosian quarters, the moonlight across one of her cheeks, and her eyes bright with what he was sure was the same interest as him. The moment had been short-lived, but it had fuelled one hell of a dream last night.

He broke his staring and looked away from her to the table in front of him. There were masses of random pieces of technology and bits of scrap metal littered across it. Beside him, Ford was picking up pieces, looking them over and putting them back down. Most looked like miscellaneous pieces of factory machinery, one piece looked like a basic battery made out of coiled metal, and next to it two interlocking wrenches. The rest were a mix of twisted, sometimes blackened, random bits of metal that looked like they had fallen out of an engine and left behind on the road for a good reason.

The table to the right was more interesting, for it had various knives, more farming like in function that weaponry, though they were all either chipped or in varying stages of rust. John guessed the trader made a good enough business out of selling them for repair and the rest of the scraps for people to repair or fit into whatever alien factory machinery or basic engines there were in the Alliance. However, the trader had some more select pieces, which had been fished out from under the tables at the back. Two small metal crates had been set on the table in front of Teyla, the lids open to reveal the various items inside, in which Teyla seemed to be honestly interested.

"Look at this," Ford uttered and John looked round at the coil and metal block that Ford was holding up. "Looks like an electromagnet."

John nodded vaguely and looked further across the table. The smaller pieces closer to the near edge of the table were mostly twisted and black, but one caught his eye. It was small and flatter than most of the pieces around it, but it was covered in a thick black coat that spoke of some serious heat it had been exposed to, like re-entry kind of heat. John reached for it and as soon as his fingertips touched it, he felt a strange deep buzz that was clearly Ancient tech. He wondered if that was what had drawn his attention to it. He picked it up properly, sitting it in his hand and the buzzing was like an itch against his skin. Ancient tech didn't normally feel like that. A faint light had also lit up under one part of the thick coating. John rubbed his thumb over the light, breaking away a tiny charred flake to reveal the faint familiar glow of Ancient tech. They didn't usually feel like this though. It was almost uncomfortable the way it created a strange grating buzz against the nerves in his hand. He clenched his teeth at the sensation as he turned the piece.

"Ancient?" Ford asked quietly at his side and John nodded.

"Feels odd though," John muttered.

"Maybe because it's broken," Ford replied as he turned back to the table contents.

John guessed that was why the piece felt so weird. It had probably just seemed like a random bit of scrap, until he had picked it up. He glanced over the table again, wondering if there were any other bits of Ancient tech here. There were thousands of far more interesting Ancient bits and pieces fully working in Atlantis, but he looked over the wrecked pieces anyway. Teyla was talking with the trader, interested in what looked like random circuit components and a small decorative knife that had all been in the trader's extra special collection. John looked down at the table contents closer to her on his right side.

There was a heavy chunk of metal, almost a cube, and he imagined it wouldn't look out of place as part of a piston. He reached for it though out of interest, but as his hand passed over a small random length of blackened metal in front of it, the buzzing faintly echoed up his fingertips. He picked up the new piece and immediately he felt it respond as ancient tech. In fact, now he was holding both pieces, he could tell that they both had the same itching, somewhat agitating, feeling to them. He guessed they had been part of the same thing, both damaged to feel that way. On impulse, he brought them closer together and turned them, realising that the end of the new piece was almost the right size for the slot on the top of the first piece.

They slid together easily, despite the heat damage, locking together securely, and immediately the buzzing lessened, somewhat closer now to the normal sensation of Ancient tech.

"How did you do that?" The trader asked across the table.

John looked up to see the man was wide-eyed with interest.

"Just looked like they fitted together," John replied with a dismissive smile.

The trader rose up on his toes slightly, clearly having seen the small glow inside the still clearly broken Ancient tech piece. The trader looked back up to John. "You have the Ancestor's touch," he realised, "A descendent of Madumo, perhaps?" he added.

"Not of Madumo, no," John replied looking back down at the metal in his hands. "I come from far away; a galaxy far, far away," he added with a smile and Ford chuckled next to him.

"Do you-" the trader started, clearly about to suggest something that likely would involve John going through all the twisted bits of metal for him to see if he could peddle them as Ancestor technology.

"I will take these," Teyla interrupted, distracting the trader, "and the item for my Father's guest," she added indicating the Ancient tech in John's hand. She met John's eyes. "If you wish it?"

John thought again that this was hardly anything all that interesting, though it was Ancient, but he nodded without thinking.

"There's another slot on this side," Ford said from John's left side. "You think there's another bit of it somewhere here?"

"Don't know," John muttered, but he was already reaching out, running his hand over the pieces, like a psychic in a movie, sensing 'the feel' of the scraps spread out across the table.

Ford pointed to a few bits, but nothing had the feel of the two linked pieces in his hand. Until, Teyla set several pieces down in front of him that had been on the table to her right. One of them, similarly shaped to the second piece, buzzed faintly in John's hand as he picked it up.

"Think it's more broken than the other two," John decided. It still slotted into place into the first piece, though the connection had clearly been warped and it wasn't as secure a fit as the other piece.

"Heat damage," Teyla considered with interest, leaning slightly against his arm as she looked closely at the Ancient tech. "Intense heat to do such damage."

John nodded, slightly distracted by her side against his arm. "It doesn't feel quite like other Ancient tech," he muttered. "Still feels off."

"It's broken," Ford concluded again, his attention having wavered away again.

"Still active though," Teyla murmured watching as John turned it over his hands again. Teyla reached out and brushed several charred flakes off its back, and she ran her fingers over a slight indention that was set into it. John watched her fingers slide across it. "Perhaps a distribution power node," she considered, "Or perhaps more structural?" Her arm was rested over John's and he tilted the gadget slightly for her to see better, which brought her slightly closer to him.

"Don't recognise it from anything back in Atlantis," John considered.

The trader slid into view from behind the table, his mouth opening at hearing what John had said. Teyla however moved from John's side and lifted a small electronic pad. "Ten credits."

"Yes, thank you, Honoured Elite," the trader replied as he took her pad and passed her one of his own, his eyes mostly on John and Ford though. Teyla tapped in a corner of the trader's pad and handed it back. The trader handed her back her pad, along with the wrapped up circuit pieces and the small knife. Teyla slid them into her coat's pockets and led the way out of the trader's tent. Leaving, John could practically feel the trader's curiosity burning into his back.

Ford reached out for the Ancient gadget, offering to put it in the fabric bag that hung from his shoulder, which held all his own bargains, and John willingly handed it over. The gadget dimmed into darkness once John let go of it. It left a slight echoing buzz along his nerve endings, but it died away once they were back out in the sunlight. John wiped his hands on his jacket.

"We'll pay you for it," John offered Teyla as he stepped up to her side.

"Consider it a gift to keep Dr McKay happy," she replied immediately and he grinned at her.

"He'll probably say it's nothing and then spend hours studying it."

"It will likely be a power distribution node that had a small secondary storage capacitor," Teyla replied as they walked on with the same comfortable relaxed pace back towards Tjaru.

"If it can keep McKay quiet for just an hour it'll be worth it," John joked back, though it was true enough.

They had already looped their way back round the field's stalls and were now almost back to the large stage close to the slope back up to the Gateway. John looked at his watch. They only had twelve minutes until they had to meet up with Woolsey again. As much as John had enjoyed the last two visits to Athos, his time with Teyla was always so limited. He wished they could just head back to the bantos courtyard and sit together looking out at the sunlight across the sand again.

"You think we should visit Torren while we're here today?" John asked her.

"He is likely very busy. His day is full of arrangements for tomorrow and in entertaining Rhakshar's family and the Representative of Xinda," Teyla replied.

John felt a heavy touch of disappointment at that. With tomorrow being the big wedding day, it likely meant that they wouldn't be able to visit, and then Teyla would probably be off back to her Elite life after that. She had even said that she was looking forward to getting back out into firing line.

"So, the big wedding?" John asked her, "Is it going to last all of tomorrow? Are there any more big wedding festivities?" They had reached the slope back up towards the Gateway. Ford was close behind them, munching on something he had bought when John wasn't looking.

"Tomorrow there will be just the wedding ceremony and the wedding banquet. Tomorrow is very much about the contract of the marriage, about the official ties it will bring Athos and Xinda as Zabetha and Rhakshar set their names to the marriage contract for all to see. Once the banquet is complete in the early evening, all the celebrations will be over," Teyla replied as they worked their way up the slope beside each other.

"That means Rhakshar is going be living here most of the time right?" John asked her knowingly.

"Yes," Teyla replied with a slight smile. Away from the press of crowds below, she was smiling more naturally now. "But, it seems that I have perhaps been mistaken in my suspicions of him, since so many of you disagree with me." Her breath was faintly husky with her increased breathing during the steep walk up the slope. John doubted he sounded as sexy as he talked breathlessly. She set quite a pace up the slope.

"Where's the ceremony going to be held?" He asked. His sore knee was complaining at the climb, but he made sure to hide it.

"In the largest park of Tjaru, further out in the city than you have seen so far, behind the Governing Buildings," she replied. "Though most political wedding ceremonies are held quickly and relatively quietly, some are more open and celebratory."

"And Zabetha and Rhakshar have gone for the big sparkly wedding," John guessed with a grin.

They were almost at the crest of the slope and the displays and tables at the top came into view.

"Yes, and they wished to share the ceremony with our people," Teyla replied. "I suspect the entire population of Tjaru will be present, as will many from other cities and settlements."

"Looks like most of them have turned up already today," John commented, fighting to regain his breath as they reached the top of the slope. The flat ground in front of the Gateway was busier than before, the post lunch rush, he guessed.

A few people, who had been closest to the slope, looked shocked at Teyla's abrupt appearance, and they nodded and made room for her quickly to walk forward. There was a loud rumbling noise, like several rolling bowling balls, which was followed by a crashing rattle of possible skittles being knocked over, and a roaring cheer went up from somewhere deep in the crowd to the left. Ford arrived at John's side, somewhat out of breath himself, and grinned off towards the sound.

"No, we don't have time," John told him with a smile. He looked down at his watch. They had to meet Woolsey in three and a half minutes.

"We have a moment or two if you wish to see the game," Teyla said having seen Ford's interest. "Charin is only over there with Mr Woolsey, still outside the Gateway."

John looked in the direction she indicated to see the flowing length of Charin's white robes through a break in the crowd. She was at a stall talking with several people and John caught a glimpse of Lorne next to her through another gap in the moving crowd. Woolsey would be there too, so maybe John had a bit more time with Teyla.

"Okay, let's check out the game," John replied to Ford, who grinned, and Teyla smiled at him as well.

"This way," Teyla said, leading the way to the left towards the loud game, "It is only over here."

John followed, but paused to look back towards Lorne, hoping to catch his attention and report that he and Ford were close by, but the crowd had closed in and he couldn't even see the stall anymore. Oh well, they would all meet up in a few minutes anyway, and it wasn't as if they couldn't check in via their radios. John considered that maybe calling in that he and Ford would be a few minutes late could work. It wasn't like there was any rush to meet up, since clearly Woolsey was still busy.

John lifted one hand towards his earpiece as he looked at the crowd to his right, hoping to see Lorne again. A black shoulder caught John's attention in the crowd, further to the right than John had expected. Maybe it was Martins. John stopped, leaning one way and then the other to see through the moving crowd, hoping to catch a better view of Martins. The shoulder was now connected with a black jacket, but the hair above it was blonde. John watched as the crowd flowed again, his eyes watching the area of the jacket. There were all shapes and colour of clothes here, but black wasn't as common, probably because it was a full summer's day. A break in the mass of people gave him another view of the jacket's owner. It was definitely not Martins; he could see that now. Crazy how similar the jacket was to the Atlantis uniform though.

John moved on, realising he had lost a clear line of sight with Teyla and Ford, but with a few long strides he saw Ford's own dark jacket and Teyla's sword hilts against her back. They were only a few metres ahead. John headed towards them, but glanced back towards the other black jacket. He caught a few glimpses of the man moving out of the main crowd and into the flow of those walking through the Gateway. It was so busy now, but John was again struck at how similar the jacket was to Atlantis' uniform, but the guy was gone from view and John had almost reached Teyla and Ford.

They had stopped at the side of a large area fenced off with posts and brightly coloured string strung between them. Inside the area there were large wooden mushrooms painted in various crazy bright colours. They were clustered in four groups, each with someone stood among them with a large ball in their hands. All four players stood ready to throw their ball towards their opponent's mushrooms. The spectators were smiling and laughing, and several children were shouting out excited advice to one woman in the game who was clearly their mother or aunt. Teyla was explaining the basic obvious rules to Ford, and John stood at her other side.

In the distance directly ahead, John heard the sounds of heavy thuds and cheers. Just over people's heads, he could just about see a large circular target high up in the far distance, various sized circles painted across it. He saw a javelin hit one circle, right in the middle, and there was a responding distant cheer. Abas had said there were throwing games that way, and Teyla had said Garthew and Thadeu were there, which didn't surprise John. He turned on the spot, looking up towards Tjaru's high city wall that ran out from the Gateway.

Another flash of a dark jacket caught his eye among the crowd. He found himself fixing on it, but he couldn't see much, other than brief glimpses, until the person stopped by a stall allowing John a moment's better view. It wasn't the same guy as before, and he wasn't just wearing a black jacket, he was wearing a tac vest!

John looked up sharply from the vest to the guy's head, trying to place him, but he moved again, people getting in the way away and John lost sight of him in the crowd. John hadn't seen the guy's face clearly, but was certain that he wasn't Lorne or Martins, John was sure of it.

John turned, his eyes moving quickly over the crowd, trying to predict where he might catch a glimpse of the man again through the moving crowd. A brief opening revealed a black shoulder again, but he was turning out of view. It had been enough though for John to see the empty Velcro spaces where the Atlantis arm patches were worn on one arm and a flag on the other arm when in the city. It _was _an Atlantis uniform for sure. He must be a newbie, that was why John didn't recognise him, but why was he here? Had something happened in Atlantis?

John took several paces away from Teyla and Ford. Had Colonel Carter sent another team through? Why hadn't the team called on the radio though? John tapped his earpiece activating his own radio, but sure enough it was alive and working. Maybe there was a good reason why they were maintaining radio silence.

"Lorne, this is Sheppard," John called into the radio, covering his ear and jaw slightly to cover some of the background noise of the crowd. He had lost sight of the guy completely now, but John kept his eyes on the area of the crowd in which the guy has been heading. If he could catch his attention…

"Lorne here," the Major replied. "You want more time to shop?" He sounded bored.

"You heard from Atlantis?" John asked.

"No. Why?" Lorne asked, picking up on John's tone.

"I've just seen two what have to be newbies from the city here, but separate out in the crowd, looks like they're looking for us," John considered. The black jacket had reappeared; the man had stopped and was looking around, trying to orientate himself.

"Where are they?" Ford asked from behind John, having overheard the conversation on the radio. John didn't look round though for he was keeping his eyes on the newbie. Willing him to look round, but something was wrong… If they had their radios open, they should be hearing John talking to Lorne.

"They sent through another team without calling us?" Lorne asked doubtfully.

"Hang on," John replied as he stepped forward, frowning towards the back of the distant man's back. The newbie turned his head and John could see his right ear was absent of a radio earpiece. Maybe he wore it on the other side.

Teyla arrived at John's side, though he registered her presence only from how close she stood and the flowery sense around her, because he didn't take his eyes off the man. He felt as if all his senses were expanded with the situation. Something was niggling at him about this. The guy still hadn't looked in this direction allowing John to attract his attention, but he didn't have a clear unobstructed view anyway. The crowds were so thick now, people constantly crossing back and forward across the distance John was watching him through.

Why wouldn't they have their radios on, unless they were purposefully not using the radios. Something so urgent had happened that Colonel Carter had sent through a radio silent team through to the carnival to find John's team.

The man had stopped in the crowd again and John saw him nod sharply to someone, before he turned sharply and headed off in the opposite direction from before. He was striding away with a determined step, no longer seeming lost or unsure. John tracked him for a moment, now going in completely the wrong direction off towards all the fighting displays and he disappeared into the thicker crowd further away from the Gateway.

John frowned, how were they going to find this new team? Only then another black jacket caught John's eye, back where the other newbie had stopped. John moved forward, seeking out the other team member the guy must have nodded to. Surely the commander of the team would be someone John knew.

He saw the third jacket and tac vest moving quickly to the right now, back towards the Gateway. Good. He was moving with a determined step. Maybe he had finally seen Lorne and Martins.

John took a breath to speak to Lorne, to get him headed towards the new guy, only now the man was walking through enough of a space that John got a good look at his face. A face that John definitely didn't recognise.

Something felt wrong about this man.

He was moving wrong, his head slightly down, sliding between people smoothly as if he had a determined task, and his eyes were focused forward with a sharp gaze. Everything about him triggered every warning instinct John had.

John started forward immediately. "I've seen three guys in Atlantis uniforms, one heading away at a right angle from me now, heading towards you guys. I don't recognise him. I saw another heading through the Gateway a few minutes ago," John reported sharply, moving parallel and to the right, tracking the man in the closing distance.

John's eyes felt dry as he watched unblinking, following the man who may or may not be a newbie. John pushed his way around a bickering couple, too many people in the way now, only suddenly the way parted for him, and he realised it was because Teyla was close at his side now, moving with him, her eyes scanning out into the crowd with concern.

"More of your people?" She asked with a frown in her voice, but John didn't look at her, he kept his attention on tracking where the new guy was moving through the crowd. The man was moving into the thickest group around the stalls where Woolsey was, and John's view of him was getting broken up more and more. Following parallel to him and moving steadily closer, though hampered by stalls and displays, John was closing the gap as best he could through the crowd.

"I don't know," John replied to Teyla. In his peripheral vision, John saw Ford was on Teyla's other side, his P90 in his hands for the first time today.

"Where is he?" Ford asked, anxiety clear in his voice, having picked up on it from John and likely because Ford couldn't see who John was following.

John was about to answer, but his target stopped and turned in John's direction, frowning into the crowd. Following his instincts completely, John stopped himself and stepped quickly back, hiding behind the wide shoulders of one of the sparkly magicians, who was waving some bright pieces of material around for his audience.

Peering round the magician's shoulder, John watched the unknown man frowning, likely having sensed someone staring at him. John had long ago accepted that extra sense was real, he had had it proven to him far too many times, and that this guy responded to it like this too meant that he likely led a less than normal life.

As the man kept looking around into the far distance, a clear break in the press of people, afforded John a more complete few of him, and several things all grabbed John's attention at once.

First, his nose had clearly been broken and not reset properly – John would have remembered someone like that in the many new faces he had seen among the newbies in Atlantis.

Second, the intense way the man had been moving through the crowd was now backed in the dark dangerous almost sneering look on his face. Just the way the man stood and looked out at the people around him, almost predatory, screamed at all John's experience. This man was dangerous.

Lastly, John saw that the front of the man's tac vest was open, a P90 in his hands, but it wasn't connected up to the supporting strap as everyone in the city wore. The guy was carrying it loose in his hands.

Someone John didn't know, in an Atlantis uniform, dangerous, scary and with a P90 held ready in his hands.

"He's not ours," John declared into his radio and to Teyla and Ford next to him. "We've got three bogies in uniform," John announced, moving swiftly forward towards the man now, who had turned away, not having made John.

"Where?" Lorne asked over the radio.

Beside him, John heard the smooth rush of one of Teyla's swords being drawn, and several things suddenly happened all at once and in quick succession.

First, the crowd abruptly thinned ahead slightly and John saw their target on a clear line towards the tables around which Woolsey and the others were stood. Lorne was a metre away from them, his P90 up and halfway through asking his question over the radio when he spied John through the crowd. John looked immediately away towards the target, knowing Lorne would see him now, but he also registered that there were a hell of a lot of civilians in the way, all messing through the space and limiting how fast John could move forward. Lorne also had two tables in his way.

In that split second of awareness, John heard someone gasp and cry out in shock loudly to his right, and the crowd of people ahead of him were suddenly running for cover. The sudden exodus left the target bogey abruptly on his own in the thinning corridor between John and the table where Woolsey stood with Charin, their backs to them. John saw them hear the commotion, but it was too late. The bogey was lifting his stolen P90, holding it awkwardly, and thank God he hadn't been using the supportive strap.

John had his sidearm in his hand without thinking, lifting it towards the man's back and he took a breath to shout out his warning, seeing Lorne doing the same ahead.

Then light shining across a blade, Teyla's sword ahead of him now. He heard her shouting something to herself, presumably into her own radio, or perhaps a warning of her own, because everyone was diving for cover now in all directions, creating chaos around him.

John sighted down his sidearm, arm out, finger on the trigger, as he shouted his own warning. But, he saw the target's trigger finger was already too, and the barrel of the P90 was focused, with a clear line of sight, unlike with everybody else, towards where Charin was turning, her long white robes swinging round her in the slow motion of John's adrenaline fuelled vision.

A flash of light again, moving so fast ahead of them, that all John saw was the hilt suddenly in the man's shoulder. Several rounds were fired from the P90 though, but the man's shot had been disrupted and they were twisted down towards the ground. He hit the ground hard on his side, and John saw the tip of the knife Teyla had thrown peaking through the front of his right shoulder. Teyla was on the man in a second, her sword under his chin and the man froze.

The screams and chaos around them suddenly hit John's senses fully, and the details of the panicked running crowd came into sharp clarity.

"Charin?" Teyla demanded loudly.

Lorne was already round by the elderly woman's side, gently pulling her and Woolsey away, Martins on his other side, both keeping their attention on the pinned would-be assassin.

"I am unharmed," Charin replied to Teyla's question, but her voice was wavering with the affects of shock. John looked worriedly at her pale fail face.

Oneakka exploded out of the panicked crowd to Teyla's side.

Teyla looked up at John, her eyes dark and wide. "You said there was another?"

"Two more. One was headed that way," John replied indicating towards the left along the city wall, the direction of which he realised was suddenly louder with shouting and some screams and what he thought might be Si' booming voice in the distance. "And another one, headed into the city," he added quickly.

John saw something shift in Teyla's expression, saw her look from him to the Gateway, to Charin, and then back to the Gateway. John saw Teyla's cool mask slip for a moment, saw the colour drain from her face.

"Oneakka watch him," she ordered suddenly, releasing the would-be assassin towards the massive Elite.

"He is dressed just like you?" Teyla demanded of John, the fear almost palpable in her as she rushed past him.

There was a strange smell of burning in the air as John took a breath to answer her, and he heard more screams of panic from far to the left, but John kept his eyes on Teyla as she ran past him, one sword flashing in her hand.

"Yes," John replied, but he was following her without thinking, Ford at his side, because John suspected he knew now what she was thinking. The assassin had been after Charin clearly, not Woolsey because he had been stood slightly further away. So there was another assassin heading into the city right now, likely heading towards a target as important as Charin, and someone like that would only be in the Governing Buildings.

Maybe Torren himself was the target.

All these thoughts jumbled together in John's head as he rushed after Teyla as she broke into a run ahead of him. The Gateway was ahead of them, but people were standing around worried and confused and an Elite warrior running in your direction with a sword in her hand was never going to comfort anyone. People ran out of the way, and, ahead of Teyla, John saw the city guards were moving out, guns in hand. Teyla rushed past them, moving straight and fast to the high street directly ahead. None of the guards attempted to stop John or Ford behind him, hopefully because Teyla had said something or because chaos had really kicked in, or maybe because they could see that they were with her. John guessed they would never even consider that an Elite might be being chased, so they assumed John and Ford were with her.

Inside the city, John registered the many worried frightened people that he ran past, but there wasn't the same sense as panic as there was outside the Gateway. As John ran on, he passed many shouted worried words, people standing close together, and the way ahead was completely clear, mostly because of Teyla he guessed. As he ran, his mind was working as fast as his body though.

The assassin hadn't been wearing a close copy of the Atlantis uniform; he had been wearing a proper one. John realised he had even seen the shine of dog tags that had fallen free of the guy's collar when he had fallen.

Donovan's team – four people missing, four uniforms – he had only seen three uniforms so far here. Was there a fourth? Donovan and his team – were they dead? Killed for their clothes?

That thought gave John an extra rush of anger-fuelled power. Lorne was shouting in John's ear reporting that Woolsey was secure, that they were okay and that Charin was alright, but everything else was lost in the sound of more panic behind Lorne.

John focused on running, panting with the exertion, but already they had reached the rise of the city, people parting for them like the red sea. Teyla was already turning into the road up to the Governing Buildings. God, she could run fast!

As they ran towards the main path to the buildings' entrance, John saw rapid movement ahead, heard gunfire, and warnings shouted, Teyla's voice among them. The action was too far head though for John to see the details, but he did see the Governing Buildings' guards falling, and as he reached the grass lawn outside the main entrance, he saw the guards on the ground, blood staining the grass under them.

Teyla had been closer, and she hadn't chosen to run towards the main entrance hall, its doors wide open and unguarded now. Instead, she was running across the lawn to the right, where John could now see an open iron gate partially hidden by low hanging tree branches.

John guessed what was happening – there was a side entrance into the complex and the assassin knew about it. As he ran across the lawn after Teyla, John pointed to the left, towards the entrance hall's doors, past the fallen guards. "Ford, through there – there could be two of them."

There were more guards injured closer to the iron gate, and John saw bullet holes chipped into the formally smooth wall of the Governing Buildings. All the guards were moving, but clearly out of the fight. Ahead, Teyla had reached the gate, leaping over something on the ground as she did.

John ran after her, his lungs and legs burning, but he wasn't going to stop, he could still smell the gunfire in the air. He heard commotion as he reached the gate, but he guessed that was backup arriving at the main entrance, back up too late.

As he burst through the gate himself, John discovered what the obstacle was that Teyla had jumped over, another guard, this one with a bullet hole in the centre of his forehead. From an Earth bullet.

Cursing to himself, John pushed through the gateway after Teyla. There was a narrow whitewashed corridor of stone here and ahead it ended with a locked door to the left and a wall directly ahead. Teyla had reached the wall, dark boot polish smears up it – the guy had come this way, over the wall, and surely he must know Teyla was behind him by now.

"There could be two," John warned her as loudly as he dared, but she had practically vaulted over a white wash wall ahead of him.

John reached the wall seconds later, jumped up, grasped the top of the wall, and hauled himself over the top. As he did, he caught a glimpse of the man ahead, climbing over another far wall, and Teyla was a good twenty yards behind him.

John landed roughly on the damp watered grass below the wall and ran after them.

Teyla reached the second wall and threw herself up it, pulling herself up with the most amazing agility. She disappeared over the top, and John hit the wall moments afterwards, but this one was higher and he lost his grip, realising only now how bruised his right hand was feeling from his sparring session with Si. He immediately jumped up again and got a good grip on the top of the wall and, grunting loudly, which seemed to help, he got himself up, boots against the wall, and over. He dropped down into a narrow tree-lined alley, running along the edge of the governing complex, and raced on after the two in front of him.

Teyla was completely silent as she belted after the man down the long narrow alley ahead of John. The right side of the long narrow space was a high wall, but the left became the back of plant-covered trellises. Was there a courtyard on the other side? Panic burst more power into John's tired aching legs as he rushed through patches of sunlight breaking through the trellises and he realised that he could hear people talking ahead. He took a rapid breath to shout a warning, but the man ahead had vanished from the alley, out into the space beyond it.

Teyla cried out a fierce battle cry that both terrified John and did something very basic inside him that made him feel a renewed burst of power as she disappeared from view as well.

He had moments running full out alone down the alleyway, every muscle in his body screaming at him. His sidearm, replaced in its holster as he had climbed the walls, was now back in his hand and he had no memory of drawing it. He clenched it tightly in the split second he was alone in the alleyway, fearing that he was going to be far too late for what was likely about to happen.

He heard shouting ahead, Teyla's battle cry again, but this time with a rush of breath behind as if she was fighting.

John broke out into a portico at the side of a massive courtyard. The family courtyard that Teyla had shown him briefly yesterday evening. Two massive reflecting pools to his left stretched down the long courtyard, but ahead at the far end, John saw people reacting in fear, Torren to the far right.

However, the assassin hadn't gotten off a shot.

John saw the bright red of the man's blood across the pavings, Teyla's sword still on its backswing. Torren's name had been shouted by someone, people gasping and stood in complete shock as the man's head dropped to the pavings at Teyla's feet.

Everything occurring ahead of him, something moved in John's peripheral vision and he looked to his left and, across the other side of the reflecting pool, he saw another stolen black jacket appear.

The man had stepped out of the door John had looked through last night, in the very far corner of the courtyard to where Teyla was now.

The man had his P90 lifted, bracing it to fire.

"Look out," John shouted as he turned in the man's direction, leaping forward over the flowerbed between him and the pavings to give himself a clearer shot.

The man ducked slightly and John saw the man's finger tighten on the trigger of his P90. John's shout made him hesitate for a split second, but he still pulled the trigger.

In that second, John had levelled his sidearm straight at the man and fired as well.

The two shots fired off loudly and almost simultaneously in the courtyard. John heard shouts from the right, and he saw the second burst of fire of the stolen P90 hit the wall instead, John's shot having clipped the man's shoulder. He wasn't going down though.

John fired again, but the man had turned, the P90 shifted into his other hand. John saw the man's face twisting with anger as he focused the barrel of the P90 towards John in the fast immediate move of a professional.

John stepped up onto something, the edge of a big stone flowerpot maybe, but whatever it was it gave him the extra height over the weapon he needed and he fired two clear rounds into the man's right shoulder and chest. The assassin fell backwards with a shout and splatter of blood.

John jumped forward though, unwilling to lose visual contact with the clearly professional killer. The reflecting pool in the way, John simply dropped down into, which afforded him a clear view of the fallen man as he strode through the water, sidearm fixed on the assassin. John was aware of shouting to the right, the sound of frightened panicked civilians yes, but something more, but John kept his eyes fixed on the fallen man.

Teyla suddenly appeared to his right, reaching the would-be assassin and slammed one boot down on the man's closest arm, but the fight was out of him. He was bleeding from three wounds, the dark red blood pooling out under him.

John climbed out of the pool, water splattering around his wet boots as he hurried across the pavings to join Teyla, sidearm still trained on the man's forehead at all times. John reached down and unclipped the P90 from the guy's vest and the sidearm from his leg and pulled back.

The Governing Buildings' guards arrived in a sudden abrupt rush, bursting through the doorway ahead of John, all carrying Alliance guns, which were immediately focused down on the assassin.

"Rhakshar!" Zabetha's wails registered in John's mind and he looked round to the far end of the courtyard to see that Rhakshar was on the ground, blood spilling over Zabetha's hand pressed to his middle. Guards were with them, Torren by their side.

"He stepped in front of her," Teyla stated. John looked at her, as pale as he had ever seen her, surely as shocked as an Elite ever could be. "He took the bullet meant for my sister."

0000  
>TBC<p> 


	22. Revelation

**Note:** Thank you everyone for your wonderful encouraging reviews for the last chapter. I'm so pleased that everyone enjoyed the surprise action sequence. I'm sorry that there was no chapter last week – to say it was a busy week in Real Life would be an understatement. It included a 10 ½ hour working day with no break, not even for lunch, and that was mid week! So, I am sure you can all understand my lack of posting this last week. But, I'm back and I'm near the end of writing this fic (after a short pause to rethink the last major fight scene, but the issue has been resolved, whew).

**Note2: **Could I also take this opportunity to encourage any fans who would like to be involved with the Beya John/Teyla Christmas Elf challenge to sign up ASAP. You don't have to be able to write fic, if you do art or vids that's great too. Come join the fun, we're all friendly and it's great for us all to show our JT love still goes on. Plus, you get your own gift, perhaps a fic written by me, you never know!

**Chapter 22 – Revelation**

0000

Rage burned in Teyla's chest, bubbling fury up into her throat.

They had attacked her family. Had targeted those closest to her, those vulnerable without fighting skills with which to defend themselves.

If she had not been here…

If John had not called the alarm…

She clenched her jaw tightly, holding her entire body rigid, restraining the fighting urge to slam her fist into something, preferably the stonewall to her left.

Heated pain drilled through her head as she watched Rhakshar being loaded quickly and efficiently onto a stretcher, Zabetha crying desperately as she clung onto one of Rhakshar's limp hands. Rhakshar's mother was in a similar state, but her tears were quiet, her hands gripping onto the blanket laid over Rhakshar as he was settled into the stretcher. There was a medical facility in the Governing Buildings, and already Teyla had heard the orders given to call in the most skilled surgeons from the city. Rhakshar would have the best care.

Father and Zabetha had almost been killed. They had literally been a fraction of a moment from death. Teyla had gotten to the one after Father just in time, despatching him quickly and efficiently. He had been determined, for he had known someone was pursuing him, but he had not once looked over his shoulder as she had chased him through the outskirts of the complex. He had just run on, not even trying to fire over his shoulder, he had simply run on as fast as he could, knowing that his 'best' course of action was to get to his target and then turn and deal with whoever was following him. She had no doubt that he had been trained killer.

As was the one who had attempted to kill Zabetha. Teyla had been far too far away to do anything other than register the new assassin's presence at John's shouted warning. The man had already been sighting down his weapon at Zabetha, who had been the full width of the courtyard away from Teyla – too far away. The gunshots had fired in that moment and Teyla had done nothing other than begin to reach for her gun. There had been nothing she could have done in that moment; nothing she could have done to save her sister. Her baby sister.

Rhakshar had saved her instead. Teyla had seen him register the danger at John's shouted warning, had seen him grasp Zabetha's arm, pulling her behind him, as he had stepped forward in front of her. He had barely managed it as the sounds of the shots had split the air apart. Out of the corner of her eye as she moved, Teyla had seen Rhakshar take the shot, had seen the splatter of blood in the air, but she had continued on racing towards the assassin. John had taken care of the killer though, shot him down again, and by the time Teyla had leapt across the reflecting pool the second assassin had been on the ground, bleeding from John's three expertly placed bullet wounds.

The medics had taken Rhakshar now, Zabetha and his mother with them, but Rhakshar's father, a tall silver haired man, held on for moment, his anger flaring in his nostrils as he stared at the bleeding man who may have killed his son. Teyla recognised the fury in him, the powerless anger and confusion.

Teyla watched his gaze shift from the assassin to someone else stood just to Teyla's right. Teyla knew who stood there, for John had remained in the same place since he had jumped out of the reflecting pool. Rhakshar's father frowned at him, confused clearly at why one man in an alien uniform had shot down one of his own.

Atlantis would be blamed for this, as had clearly been intended. Whomever had planned this had not only targeted Teyla's closest, but in the same stroke had worked to ruin relations between the Alliance and Atlantis.

Teyla tried to focus her mind on that thought, forcing her mind to work and override the tearing fury inside of her. She struggled with theories as to who would most benefit from this action as she watched Rhakshar's father and quiet brother leave with the medics.

Her own father remained in the courtyard though, watching Rhakshar being taken away, the stain of Rhakshar's blood bright on the courtyard pavings around him.

Someone had tried to kill Father. Father was one of the most powerful traders and system leaders in the Alliance, but he was also her family and currently in negotiation to trade with Atlantis. There were too many variables for her to narrow down who would wish to benefit from all those factors. Whoever they were, they had very nearly succeeded.

Teyla turned away sharply, unable to allow herself to feel the sharp spike terror again to remember how close her father, sister and Charin had come to death. She instead returned her full attention to the would-be assassin lying in his own blood. The medics had bound his shoulder and arm wounds, but had left him on the pavings at her orders. The complex's guards stood, with Lieutenant Ford, around the man, all of them professionally in control, but Teyla could see with an experienced eye that they were shocked, confused and some very angry.

Teyla moved further towards the man as the medic fussed over the bandages.

"Leave him," Teyla ordered sternly and the medic winced at her loud sharp tone. He hesitated in obeying her though, his medical professionalism warring with his respect, and fear, of her. He pulled back, uttering that the assassin should be in the hospital soon.

Teyla stepped further forward, towering down over the assassin. John had taken him down with skill, putting him out of commission, but he would survive with medical attention. He could talk, which was far from the state of the other assassin she had stopped from killing Father.

John spoke into the air beside her, exchanging reports with Mr Woolsey and the rest of the Atlantis team over his radio. Teyla had received a report of her own though, Si had reported that he was on his way to the Governing Buildings. His voice had told her that there was further bad news to come, but that he had chosen not to tell her over the radio, even using the secure Elite frequency.

Was Charin alright?

Teyla stared down at the bleeding man at her feet, stripped of his Atlantis jacket and his shirt cut open when the medics had bound his wound. His blood was staining everything, but his eyes were clear enough as he looked up. Teyla had not allowed him to be given any pain relieving medication. The medic had clearly not approved of that order either.

"Lorne says the crowds are calming down, but everyone's gating off Athos," John reported quietly to her left.

Teyla nodded, but she kept her eyes on the assassin. He was purposefully not meeting her gaze, instead staring up into the sky above them. Teyla could see him gathering himself mentally, probably fully aware of the fact that he was now in the hands of the Elite. He thought he would be able to withhold what he knew. He would learn quickly that he was very much mistaken.

Si appeared through the doorway ahead of Teyla, quickly drawing her attention.

"Charin?" Teyla asked, uncaring right now that she was asking something so emotional in front of others.

"She is well," Si reported immediately, but his face lost none of its sternness. "Representative Garthew has been assassinated."

All the guards reacted, though none of them took their eyes from their prisoner.

"The fourth assassin you warned us about," Si' gaze slid to John for a moment, "shot him, and two of his bodyguards, at the throwing challenges. Halling and I apprehended him moments afterwards."

John uttered a word under his breath, likely a swear word among his people. Teyla knew what he was thinking, that he too saw the significance – Atlantis would be blamed for all this.

"These are not our people," John stressed out loud again as he pointed down at the bleeding man.

"We know," Si replied. "The one who attempted to harm Charin, Oneakka has already confirmed his identity through a fingerprint scan. He is a known mercenary, usually works outside the border."

"These two displayed professional skills," Teyla reported, not needing to indicate whom she meant. She kept her gaze level with Si. He held her gaze in silence for a moment, and Teyla realised she saw concern in his eyes – not for the situation, but for her. She looked away from her friend. Si saw her far too clearly and right now she needed to maintain the fierce isolated anger she felt to block out the other feelings. She needed to focus, to act.

Teyla stepped further over the assassin, her shadow casting over his face and she saw him tense his jaw. "Leave us with him," she ordered the guards.

They did not hesitate as they moved away, but Teyla sensed hesitation, they were angry and shocked. These assassins had killed at least several of the guards and had infiltrated the complex. Professional and personal prides and honour had been damaged. On all fronts.

She should have remained with her family in the complex with so many on Athos.

"Return to your people," Si said to John, "Leave this to us."

"We're not going anywhere, we've got our people lost in this," John argued, his tone tense and bubbling with the last affects of adrenaline, and likely a touch of fear at what all this may mean for Atlantis.

"They are most likely dead," Si stated.

"We don't know that for sure," John protested, far too aggressively towards an Elite.

"Major Sheppard has every right to hear what this man has to say," Father said from behind Teyla.

She looked round sharply, surprised that he had remained in the courtyard. She looked into his eyes and saw far too much emotion for her to bear, but he was controlling it, as she was. He had been moments from death himself, and then his youngest daughter had almost been killed in front of him.

"Major Sheppard saved Zabetha's life," Father added, his attention shifting to John. Teyla saw the absolute conviction in Father's eyes and the near break of his control as he spoke to John. "You have my everlasting gratitude for that and I will make it clear to everyone that Atlantis is not responsible for what has happened."

"It will not matter," Si said, allowing Teyla the excuse to look away from her Father's pained face and John's respectful nod. "They may not have killed all their targets, but the damage to Atlantis' reputation will be complete. An assassin in an Atlantis uniform has killed one of the High Council representatives."

Teyla looked back down to the assassin. His face had paled further, but he seemed to have regained some control over his pain now. Good.

"You will tell us who hired you," Teyla told him.

He clenched his teeth together, his cheeks flexing and his breathing increasing, but he communicated his answer clearly enough.

Teyla almost smiled at him. She crouched down by the man's side, uncaring that her boots were in his pool of blood. She leant over him enough to be sure to fill his view, her shadow completely covering his face, but he looked away immediately.

Teyla held still and just let him feel the weight of her full attention for a few moments. The others were quiet around her, but even if they were talking, Teyla was solely focused on this man now.

"You are one of four assassins. One of your number is dead, decapitated by my sword, and another has been stabbed through by my hand as well," Teyla recounted to him, keeping her voice strong and steady. "You were going to kill my sister." Some of her anger leeched into that statement and she saw the man's cheek twitch.

"I am Elite Warrior Emmagan. I have killed more Wraith Queens than any living Elite. You have one chance to tell me all you know."

He was sweating now, the beads of moisture breaking out across his face. He licked his lips, swallowed, his breathing fast, and she could almost see his mind working behind his eyes.

He was a professional killer, his reputation based on his skills including strength in the face of torture. However, he had to know that in the hands of the Elite he would never see the light of freedom again. He would be calculating how to get out of the situation so that he could live to work another day. Teyla worked to suppress the bitter burning taste in her throat that made her want to vent her opinion as to the scum that he was, but she held still and quiet, keeping the heavy tension upon him and strict control of herself.

"You're going to kill me anyway," he said finally, and, though his controlled fear and pain was clear, his stubborn will was also obvious in his voice.

"No, we are not going to kill you," Teyla informed him, giving him a faint moment of relief, and then she killed it. "I am going to destroy your mind."

"Emmagan," Si warned quietly, but Teyla ignored him.

She leant further over the would-be assassin, the smell of sweat, blood and fear ripe in her nose. He tried to avoid her gaze, but he could not ignore her.

Hatred for this man tore through her as he stubbornly trying to avoid her gaze. He had been a single second away from killing her sister in cold blood, and he may have killed Zabetha's chosen mate.

"I am Emmagan," Teyla all but spat at him, but she just about kept her voice low and steady. "I have killed thousands of Wraith; I have defeated and slaughtered Wraith Queens, but not just with my hands. I have killed them with my mind." He seemed to freeze under her. "The stories of Elite killing with a single thought – they are _all_ _true_," she lied somewhat. "But you, I will not kill, I will instead strip your entire mind clear of all I wish to know and then I will leave your mind broken." She didn't even try to conceal her anger and hatred for him. "You will live, your body healed, but for the rest of your very long life you will be aware of everything but unable to move, unable to speak and unable to beg for the end of your miserable life. I will take _everything_ from you, leaving you nothing but pain, misery, shame and guilt."

Her angry words echoed off the still courtyard pavings around her. She could do it to him, she would find a way, and she meant every single word she spoke and she knew that fact had been clear in her words. In her promise.

She felt the shock in the air around her, and not just from the man laid under her, but she kept her eyes locked on him. At this moment, she did not care who else was witnessing this moment. She did not care that her Father was witnessing this side of her, that John saw her as she had been trained to be, or that she was well aware that she was losing a part of herself in this. Nothing mattered but vengeance, to find out who had dared to do this against her family.

The man swallowed and his eyes slid to meet hers. They were a dull brown with narrowed tiny constricted pupils, despite the depth of the shadow she cast over his face. She let him see her hatred of him, and the truth of her promise.

She saw the terror in him in return.

"I don't know her name," he said abruptly, his eyes snapping away from her, his stubborn strong will nothing compared to hers.

"Her?" Teyla demanded.

"Blonde, tall, beautiful," he added, his words spilling out.

One person fit that description immediately in Teyla's mind, but that was impossible.

"Who is she?"

"I don't know. She wore a mask over one side of her face." He stuttered to a halt and then swallowed before looking at Teyla out of the corner of his eyes. "She had Elite tattoos around her neck."

Teyla's breath left her throat and she heard Si curse loudly.

"Iketani!" Si stated angrily.

Everything suddenly made sense – this personal attack, including its focus on Atlantis, and even Garthew, who the Elite knew had been in association with Iketani in the past.

Teyla reached for control, keeping close over the assassin, controlling her expression. "Where is she?"

"I don't know. We met her only twice, both times at an underground meeting house," he replied. He was almost deathly pale now, his body shaking, likely from shook of blood loss and at her threats. She sensed there was more he had to share, and she narrowed her eyes and waited. "But," he continued, "the man who introduced us, a trader, he….he told me she was staying on a station outside of Alliance territory."

"Which station?" Teyla pushed.

"Dreamstation," he replied, "a trading station well outside Alliance territory."

"Trading station?" Si muttered doubtfully. "More a gathering place of the worst forms of humanity. A nest of vipers."

"Why did this trader tell you where she was?" Teyla demanded, the fact far too useful and possibly a trap set by Iketani.

The assassin licked his lips. He was looking even paler, perhaps only minutes from passing out. "I traded something to him for the information…I got the impression from the woman that…she would value my…skills again."

Teyla sat up, but kept her eyes on him. He watched her too, but warily now rather than fearfully.

"That's all I know about her," he added.

"What did you trade to him for the information?" Teyla asked, curious more than suspicious.

He blinked at the question, not having expected it, and then looked away. "Quantum 3," he replied.

Disgusted with him even more now, Teyla stood up abruptly, causing him to twitch.

Si was already turning away, speaking into his radio, so Teyla turned round to look at Father.

"I will deal with those responsible for this, Father," she told him. "But the name, Iketani, must not be heard by others."

Father nodded. His expression was grim, and inside a part of her felt dirtied by having to let her noble father see her darkest side.

"I understand," Father replied.

She was responsible for what had happened. Iketani had almost succeeded in killing her family and it was solely her fault. She had betrayed them all, made them vulnerable by their association with her and by the knowledge Iketani had of Teyla's closeness with them. For the first time, Teyla truly saw the wisdom in the distance the Elite usually demanded between warriors and their families. Loved ones only created vulnerabilities and became targets themselves. She should have lived as the other Elite did, away from family connection. Massa and his pain and heartbreak at Mera's death came immediately to mind. Massa was a strong warrior, but he had been almost destroyed by Mera's loss. As much as he had loved Mera, she had been a vulnerability that Iketani too had exploited.

Teyla turned and strode quickly away, away from her Father's worried, grim eyes, and the blood across the pavings. She would deal with this, for she was an Elite warrior, down to her bones, and she had lost sight of that too much lately. She was Elite and she now she would immerse herself into that true nature - to avenge her family and to stop Iketani for good this time. She steadfastly kept her gaze from meeting John's as she passed him; she had to be the strong warrior Elite she was. She had allowed too much weakness lately.

"Daughter," Father's voice caught her attention just as she was about to exit the courtyard. She paused and looked over her shoulder to her Father again, past the hilt of one sword. "Be careful," he told her.

She felt herself swallow, felt the emotion threatening to rise again, but she crushed it.

She was Elite and she would make sure that no further harm would ever come to her family.

She nodded again and strode forward into the darkness of the building and out of the light of the courtyard.

000000

She strode through the Governing Buildings without stopping, receiving a report from a senior guard as she went and she ordered the complex guard numbers to be doubled.

As she finally exited the main entrance, eyes forward and away from the blood stained lawn to her left, Si fell into step with her.

"Halling is already on his way to the Portal to speak with the training facility. Saoka should be able to find a way for us to reach Dreamstation," he stated.

"Outside of normal channels," Teyla commented.

"She will know long before we leave Alliance territory otherwise," Si agreed.

"How is she still alive, Si?" Teyla spat out quietly to him as they strode together at a fast pace through the streets of Tjaru. Teyla was well aware of the two other sets of boots behind them - John and Lieutenant Ford. Teyla suspected already that John would not remain out of what was to come – he would wish to join the raid on Dreamstation.

"She must have had someone pull her out of the bunker, but it's likely that she will be limited by her extreme injuries. We know she's scarred, from what he said, hopefully she has lost her former physical skills as well," Si suggested. It went unsaid how unlike an Elite today's plan had been, Iketani had struck out from the shadows, hiding behind the acts of others, hiring killers. Iketani' betrayal to all the Elite stood for was complete to the extreme this day.

"I should have gone back and seen her body for myself," Teyla uttered angrily, but her voice was low enough for only Si to hear. The faces they passed in the streets were worried, likely having heard rumours about the guards' deaths, and maybe even about Rhakshar. She had to maintain the appearance of complete calm – the Elite were always in complete control.

"The bunker had been burnt through," Si replied. "Oneakka saw it for himself when he went back after. Nothing was salvageable, not even the bricks."

Teyla bit the inside of her cheek. She should have known Iketani would not be taken down so easily, but then she had not witnessed Iketani' being shot down by the Wraith Queen, for she had been near death herself. All she could remember of their own escape was the scent of John and the warmth of his chest as he had carried her out of the bunker.

She blinked and looked out across Tjaru. She needed to regain control of herself. She was usually far more skilled in controlling her emotions.

They ran into Tisirus halfway to the Gateway where he was heading up to the Governing Buildings with a small troop of guards. His eyes were angry, but his manner was professional and yet he held the scent of guilt about him. Such an event in his own city, under his protection, would cut at him deeply. Teyla noticed his frown deepen as he looked at John and Lieutenant Ford. Even Tisirus was already suspicious of their involvement.

"The Rosenthal High Force will be arriving shortly to retrieve Representative Garthew's body and they have asked Leader Torren and the Elite to give them the assassin responsible for the murder," Tisirus reported.

"They may take him, once the Elite have questioned him further," Teyla replied.

"The carnival is breaking up, most returning to their homes here or through the Portal," Tisirus continued. "I have guards watching everything and no one is allowed to enter their tents or stalls until we will check through everything."

Teyla nodded. "I doubt you will find anything, but I will be interested in anything you discover. We have already learnt the source of this attack," she informed him and he looked surprised and relieved. "The Elite will deal with the source."

Tisirus nodded. "Thank you, Honoured Elite. News of Rhakshar's injuries has already reached the carnival outside and it seems that most," he eyes slid to John and Lieutenant Ford again, "believe that Atlantis is responsible."

"Spread the news that is incorrect, in fact those of Atlantis saved both my father's and Zabetha's life. Rhakshar was injured saving Zabetha," Teyla told him sternly. "We will not allow those responsible to guide opinions to their satisfaction."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," Tisirus replied and Teyla saw the faint surprise in his expression, for it was perhaps the first time he had heard her show so much anger. Teyla controlled herself a little tighter. "There is one assassin still alive in the complex, being held by the guards. Make sure that the guard numbers remain doubled and keep the complex closed to all until we return."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," Tisirus replied. He moved on, heading up the city as she and Si, John and Lieutenant Ford headed on towards the Gateway.

Teyla was aware of John's attempt to catch her attention as she moved forward, but she kept going. "We need to reach Dreamstation, before she learns that three attempts were unsuccessful."

"Where is this Dreamstation?" John asked from behind her, likely unhappy being left out of the conversation.

"Several hours by hyperspace outside Alliance territory," Si replied first.

"Any planets in the system with a Gate?" John asked.

"No, it is a small system with a dying sun, nothing there is useful," Si replied.

"So a perfect place of Iketani," John concluded.

"Yes. Dreamstation is a privately owned station, seen as a trading station, but in truth it is a pleasure palace for criminals and those wishing to keep out of sight of any system or planetary security force. It is where people go to hide and to trade in the shadows," Teyla added as they reached the Gateway.

The Gateway was in lockdown with only those of Tjaru were allowed to enter the city. Teyla led her group straight past the guards. All eyes were on them and Teyla looked across the two lines of wary civilians and saw the worry and mistrust directed towards John and Lieutenant Ford, but also the hope that the Elite were here. Teyla kept her chin high and worked to appear calm.

They headed to the right, where before the area before the Gateway was full of people, now there only stood empty displays, with the occasional owner seen packing up somewhat nervously. The Elite challenging space was obvious in the near distance and Teyla could see that there were more guards stationed around its tent.

She led the way around the empty stalls, the ground littered with dropped half-eaten food and items knocked off the stalls' tables. Behind her, the fields below the city had more activity from the sounds of it, but there was no music anymore, no more laughter. She did not look round, she kept her eyes on her goal and she kept the pace fast.

They reached the Elite tent to find Major Lorne stood outside with several Athosian guards. Teyla nodded to them all and proceeded inside.

The two captured assassins were tied up and knelt to one side. Oneakka stood in the centre of the space, arms crossed and his attention fixed on the prisoners. The one Teyla had stabbed through the shoulder, had his wound bound and he looked somewhat pale. The other assassin, the one who had killed Garthew, was in a better state, his face only bruised and his lower lip was swelling up from a cut. His fate on Rosenthal would not be pleasant; Teyla suspected that he would be publically judged and condemned by their justice system.

On the other side of the tent, Mr Woolsey was sat with another guard, in front of them a pile of the reclaimed Atlantis uniform jackets, vests, and weapons. Mr Woolsey stood up as soon as he saw her, and Teyla noticed two long chains in his hand.

"Honoured Elite," Mr Woolsey said hurriedly as he stepped forward. "Let me assure you that these men have nothing to do with Atlantis."

"I know that, Mr Woolsey," Teyla replied as she held up a hand. "Major Sheppard has explained the situation of your missing team to us and to my father."

"Is your father alright?" Mr Woolsey asked, very worried behind his mask of professionalism.

"My father is unharmed, as is my sister, due to Major Sheppard," she informed him and she glanced round at John as she said so, feeling ashamed of herself for not having looked John in the eye for some time. John however seemed as focused on business as she did, for he moved further into the tent with Major Lorne at his side, his gaze on the chains in Mr Woolsey's hand.

"Donovan and Torres' tags," Major Lorne reported quietly. Teyla saw the controlled anger in John's face.

"Where's Martins?" He asked looking around the tent.

"He's gone to the Gate with Honoured Elite Halling. He'll report in to Colonel Carter," Mr Woolsey replied.

John nodded. "Have they said anything?" John asked, his attention shifting to the two kneeling assassins.

"Nothing useful," Oneakka replied, turning to meet Teyla's eyes. "But then we know who's responsible."

"Yes, Iketani," Teyla replied quietly for the team from Atlantis' ears only. "We also know where to find her."

"Hopefully, unless she's moved on," John added.

"Dreamstation is likely the safest place for her currently, and she will not expect us to have learnt her identity and location so quickly," Teyla replied. "We will have time." She turned her attention back to Mr Woolsey. "I suggest that you and your people return to Atlantis and we will contact you once Iketani has been dealt with by the Elite."

"We're coming with you to Dreamstation," John interrupted and she felt him move closer.

She looked up and round to him stood beside her. His expression was determined and very much the warrior that he was. She had almost forgotten that fact over the last few days, but his quick action today had reminded her most strongly of his warrior status. Yet, he was also a warrior of Atlantis and it was time she remembered that clearly.

"It is up to the Elite to deal with her," Teyla told John, softening her voice somewhat, so as to reason with him. "We will make it clear that Atlantis is not to blame for what happened here today."

John was ready to interrupt before she finished, but he held his tongue until she did, and then he launched into his argument. "Today was just as much about Atlantis. Iketani targeted us with this too. She's responsible for the capture, if not the deaths, of four members of Atlantis, and she knows we've worked with you before. This is personal for us too."

He held her gaze stubbornly. She worked to remember that she trusted this man, that he was an excellent warrior and that from his point of view he was right - his people deserved to be a part of bringing Iketani down. It was just that it was not the Elite way to include outsiders, but then they had worked with those from Atlantis twice before now. Or was her reticence in including John due to another reason?

She had almost lost Charin, Father and Zabetha today, and she realised that she did not wish to risk John as well. It was not the way to think, it was not the Elite way to think. He was a warrior and his assistance could be helpful, and it would look good to the High Council if Atlantis had helped in stopping those responsible for today's assassination.

She considered those points as she looked back to Mr Woolsey.

"We can help you find her," Mr Woolsey offered, though his gaze shifted to John, because clearly in this situation, John was the most experienced.

Teyla glanced aside to Oneakka, but she could already see that he was ready to leave, to start the hunt regardless as to who came with them.

Teyla looked back to Mr Woolsey and then John. "Very well, but only yourself and another, this will be a small group. We will have to infiltrate Dreamstation quietly."

John smiled grimly, pleased at her decision.

"Arm yourselves, we are leaving immediately," she told him as she turned away, her eyes falling on the kneeling assassins for a moment, before she turned away and headed for the exit.

Just as she neared the tent's entrance, she heard wailing, a woman's voice sobbing out words. Quickening her step, Teyla emerged into the light to see Tisirus approaching with a small number of guards and with them Meela, one of the Governing Building's official gardeners. Why was she here and why was she sobbing? Had something else happened up at the complex?

Teyla strode forward and as soon as Meela saw Teyla she rushed forward, only to drop to her knees. Tisirus caught the woman's shoulder, keeping her from grabbing Teyla's coat.

Teyla caught the air of brisk annoyance in Tisirus, but before she could ask, Meela became whimpering out her explanation.

"Honoured Elite, I am so sorry," she stuttered out her tearful words, one hand weakly reaching out to Teyla imploringly, the gardener's eyes swimming with tears. "I did not know," she sobbed.

"Did not know what?" Teyla asked.

"He told me he wanted to meet Leader Torren, to…to speak with him, I did not know!" She wailed again, slumping forward slightly.

"She recognised the assassin you had slain, Honoured Elite," Tisirus explained.

A few new pieces fell into place in Teyla's mind now. The assassins who entered the Governing Buildings had known their way around, and the one Teyla had chased had clearly known exactly which route would take him to the family courtyard, and that Teyla's family would be there. As Teyla had silently feared, there had been a traitor in the Governing Buildings.

"He lied to me, I thought he loved me," Meela explained around her sobs, her watering eyes turned up to Teyla, begging forgiveness.

"You told them how to find my father and sister inside the Governing Buildings," Teyla said to her. "You told outsiders restricted information."

"I only told him, I did not know about anyone else," Meela replied and Teyla saw her look off into the tent where she must clearly be able to see the two assassins tied up inside. "I did not know… He told me he wished a peaceful protest, to speak with Leader Torren about the slave labour in the Xinda mines."

Teyla sighed, reaching for patience and trying not to feel sympathetic for the weak woman. "Meela, you were trusted to work in the Governing Buildings and you have betrayed that trust."

Meela began sobbing again, tears running down her face, her pale shaking hands lifting to her face. "P…please, Honoured Elite…please…" She begged.

Teyla suspected the woman thought she was to be put to death. Such beliefs about the Elite were common, and sometimes they were true.

"Leader Torren will decide what will be done with you," Teyla stated. "Be thankful to the Ancestors, Meela, that none of my family was killed."

Teyla nodded to Tisirus, who in turned nodded to the guards who reached down and assisted Meela to her feet. She would be imprisoned until Father had time to deal with her.

"I'm so sorry, Honoured Elite," Meela repeated through her tears as she was tugged away, back towards the Gateway.

Tisirus reported that the Governing Buildings were secure, that six guards were badly injured and that three were dead. Rhakshar was being prepped for surgery and the outlook was as yet uncertain. Teyla nodded through his report, but over his shoulder, she saw Halling approaching along the road from the Portal. Lieutenant Martins walked at Halling's left, and on the other side walked Nalla. The woman's purple skin was bright in the afternoon sunlight. Teyla could tell that there was yet more dire news to come.

Teyla moved to meet them, John, Lieutenant Ford, Si and Oneakka with her, leaving Tisirus to watch the prisoners in the tent.

"Nalla," Teyla greeted the Elite.

"Emmagan, Si, Oneakka," she replied. "Major Sheppard, it is good to see you again," she added.

"Wish the circumstances were better," John replied as he stood at Teyla's side, the eight of them creating a small circle among the empty abandoned stalls.

"I am afraid to report more bad news," Nalla continued to Teyla. "Breack is dead."

Teyla had been shocked by too much today and this was another blow to her strained composure. "How?" She demanded.

Breack, a former Elite, had betrayed them, associating himself with Iketani. He had been the one who had killed Mera and others on the former Hastos, at Iketani' orders. Breack was imprisoned in the Elite training facility, for the Elite did not trust him to be held securely in any other prison. At least that was what they had thought.

"His food was poisoned. It was in the briel plants brought into the facility only this morning and cooked into the stew," Nalla reported. "By the time we realised what had happened, six recruits had also been killed, and we have eleven in critical condition."

Teyla looked away, renewed fury making her jaw ache as she clenched her teeth together. In her peripheral vision, John's shoulder moved and she saw him look at her with concern, but she looked away, back to Nalla.

"Have you found the trader who supplied the plants?"

"The report I received just before coming here, was that he had been found in the usual market, but that he had purchased the plants from a new trader yesterday. One he had not seen before. He did not think to check further," Nalla replied.

"Iketani planned this well," Si uttered.

"She has had time to," Halling added.

"She was dead," Oneakka added forcefully, especially angry since he had been the one who had checked her body in the bunker.

"Maybe, or on the very edge of it, but she clearly had a plan of escape that worked," Nalla replied. "I will see if I can get anything further out of the prisoners for you. But, it seems that she wished us to know it was her."

"She expected the mercenaries to talk if captured," Si considered.

"I am not sure about that, but Massa dialled into the training facility an hour before lunch, he swore that Iketani had been in his quarters earlier and had retrieved her sword. I admit I did not believe him to be clear thinking, though he believed it to be true," Nalla added regretfully.

"Where is he?" Oneakka asked.

"I told him to return to the facility, but he refused. He said he would hunt her down himself," Nalla replied.

"Keep attempting to reach him if you can, let him know that we are joining the hunt," Teyla said. "Have you spoken with Saoka?"

"He has invited us to his main marketing station, and by the time we get there, he should have some transport for us," Halling reported.

"Let's get going," Oneakka stated and strode forward, impatient to leave.

"Halling," Teyla said to her oldest friend, "the Rosenthal High Force will be arriving soon, we need an Elite here who was present and who took down the assassin."

Halling did not like it, but he nodded. "I will stay with Nalla. Once the High Force are gone we will join you if needed."

"I hope that you will not have to, this should end soon and decisively," Teyla stated.

"Be wary," Halling added before she moved away, "Iketani knows all of us too well and though we know her, now that she is injured, perhaps weakened, her agenda may be greatly changed. She will not be as predictable as she once was."

Teyla met his eyes, and though she was impatient to follow Oneakka, she took a moment to nod, to take in his warning. Beside her, John was talking with Lieutenant Martins, telling him to join Major Lorne and Mr Woolsey, but Teyla kept her attention on Halling.

"We will be careful," she promised Halling and then moved away, John and Lieutenant Ford on one side and Si on the other, Oneakka ahead of them already moving down the road to the Portal.

This would end today, if it was to be the last thing Teyla did, she would see Iketani finally stopped, for good this time.

00000  
>TBC<p> 


	23. Smuggling

**Chapter 23 – Smuggling**

000

It had been days since John had been fully kitted up, a P90 in his hands and a tac vest full of all that he could need. The vest was Lorne's because his was the closest to John's size, and because John couldn't have worn any of the reclaimed vests from the assassins as they were evidence, but also because they had various weapon holes in them and were coated in the assassins' blood. The P90 he carried was one of the reclaimed ones though, the only one that had had a full clip inside and was the smoothest running. As John had pulled it out of the pile of reclaimed weaponry and uniforms, he had noticed the old scratches and scrapes along it, and something dark and well dried on one of them, but he hadn't looked closer.

Four good people had likely been killed for those uniforms and weapons. John had seen even worse reasons why people had been killed before, but right now that didn't matter, to think of Donovan's team…good people. John had gotten on well with Donovan, respected him and the thought of him being killed for what had happened today… There was no way John was going to be left behind on this mission. Woolsey hadn't been entirely happy with just John and Ford leaving with the Elite, but John was in charge of the team when it came to all things military and this was the best thing John could do right now. Lorne and Martins would remain with Woolsey, and John suspected that Colonel Carter would send in more help or recall them for a debrief to hopefully return to Athos tomorrow. One thing was for sure, John wasn't going to sit on his ass while Teyla and the Elite cleared up the mess and found out what had happened to Donovan's team.

The small team of three Elite, John, and Ford would be enough, for the frontline of attack at least. Assuming their small team could get their lift from the marketing station asap, the Sythus would apparently be less than an hour behind them on the way to Dreamstation.

The marketing station was almost identical to the one John had been an unwilling visitor last year. Si had explained to John, as they had stepped through Athos' Gate and into the space station, which was weird, that Saoka was a friend of his who owned several stations and market halls across the Alliance. Clearly someone with a lot of cash behind him who apparently worked both sides of the 'legal line' as Si had put it. The Elite were quite happy using unofficial channels and to get to this Dreamstation undetected they were going to need a less than official method of transport, and it seemed this Saoka was their best bet.

The station lighting was low, suggesting it was night here, though there were still quite a few people moving through the wide corridor that led away from the Gate. Two large portholes looked out on the starscape outside to John's right and he could see an empty docking arm stretching away outside, and far below a blue planet hung among the stars. John wondered if the Gate had been in orbit of the planet before being incorporated in the marketing station or if it had been moved up here.

Ford was silent at John's left, but he was looking around fascinated at the sight of the large marketing hall they entered. John kept his eyes forward and steadfastly didn't look for any slave cages. He wasn't sure he could deal with that right now.

Iketani was alive. How the hell had she survived? John had seen first hand what Teyla's slice had done to her and then the shots the Wraith Queen had put into her. He could remember the deep pool of blood soaking up into the traitorous Elite's hair where she had lain on the bunker floor. Of course, John hadn't looked close up, he had been more intent on getting Teyla out of there, but he knew that Oneakka had checked on Iketani himself. If it hadn't been for the report of Iketani wearing a mask on one side of her face, John would have wondered if she had cloned herself or something. Whatever had happened to get her out of that bunker, she was clearly out for some payback

Today's attack had been a mix of revenge and a clear up session. Breack was out of the mix now, which meant that he couldn't personally give testimony to the Alliance justice systems, whatever they were, against Iketani and her former evil plans to kill the Elite and take over the High Council. John guessed that Garthew must have been one of the High Council who Iketani had schemed with, which also explained Teyla's less than enthusiastic opinion of the Representative before now.

Then there was the attack on Charin, Torren and Zabetha – you couldn't get more personal than that, and Teyla was taking it personally.

Since the attack, it was like something had shut inside her.

She was clearly angry, but it was bubbling and seething under a strict layer of control. The determination and aggression was seeping through though, and she had focused them so successfully on the assassin John had shot down. He could understand her reaction, it was expected, but he suspected that she wasn't used to something so traumatically emotional as your family being targeted.

Between them, they had stopped three of the four assassins, but Rhakshar had been the one to save Zabetha directly, and he was someone Teyla hadn't trusted. It was as if in that first moment as they had both stood over the shot assassin, her world had been turned on its axis, and he had seen the terror and shock in her face. He personally knew what a moment like that could do to you, how it haunted you, how every choice you had made up to that traumatic event would go over and over in your head, and how the nightmares could terrorise you for years afterwards.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help her.

She had taken immediately control of herself though, cold control and determination slamming into place as she had snapped orders to medics and guards, and the way she had left Torren in the courtyard… It was almost as if she thought she might never return…

She had barely met John's eyes since then, except when he had argued his involvement in this raid on Dreamstation to find Iketani. Even then, there had been that cold control in her eyes, her voice tightly level, but dark anger brimming below it. He could understand what she was going through, he might even have reacted the same way if he was in her place, but it felt wrong to him. This version of her was a lifetime away from the woman he had grown to know these past few days, the woman who had smiled with him, teased him and who had been happy staying with her family. That woman was gone, and now only the true Elite Warrior remained - tightly in control and striding at the head of their small team, the driver of this mission without any comment from any of the other two Elite.

John suspected that the other Elite were angry as well, after all this was Iketani again, and Breack had been killed in their own backyard. John glanced at Oneakka striding just ahead of him, the man's eyes sliding over everyone they passed with hostile suspicion, and each and every one of those people looked terrified at the scary Elite warriors striding through the corridors as if nothing existed ahead of them but something to kill. The Elite were out for blood and that fact was obvious without anyone knowing any of the details.

The corridors they had been following finally ended in a wide spiral staircase, which Teyla led the way up. John held back, the last to climb the steps, covering their six, as he scanned the empty corridor behind them. Nothing stirred. He turned to the stairs and moved up them quickly, his attention switching between watching below and being solidly aware of Teyla's boots at the lead of the others on the steps above. Even the way she was walking was different, like she was a bubble of furious restraint ready to burst.

John was just starting to feel a little dizzy from the tall spiral staircase when they finally reached the top. A single corridor led them through two sets of doors, guards stationed at each, and they arrived abruptly in Saoka's office.

John entered last, and pulled up quick in envious shock. Even with the big Elite men in front of him, there was enough space in the office to fit John's last two apartments into it with space for a reception hall.

The office surely stretched the full width of the station, because the windows along one long wall seemed to cover a near 180 degrees of starscape. The furthest windows looked out over two more docking arms stretching out from the station, and two large spaceships were docked against them, the blue planet just visible below from this angle.

The end of the office, closest to John, an area of the floor was sunk down to create a semicircle of couches facing out towards the view of the stars. The rest of the office was open space until you reached the far end, and there, high portholes behind it, stood a massive oval desk. Behind that flashy white desk, a man stood up. He was middle aged, of average height, and his hair was overly black, likely hiding grey. He wasn't so concerned about the grey in his clothing though, because he was dressed in shades of grey, the cut of his clothes smart and very well tailored. John would bet a considerable amount of moment that the tailor had designed the jacket to conceal some weaponry though. The massive bodyguard stood to one side of the desk, squeezed into a smart jacket of his own, didn't have such compulsion about hiding the guns on his hips. He stood solidly, arms crossed, his back to the wall and he was watching them with a wary eye.

"Ah, Si, I see that when you said a 'party', you were in fact thinking of far more than usual," Saoka said with a smooth deep voice as he rounded his desk and moved towards them, the suspicious body guard holding back.

Si led the way forward to meet Saoka across his massive office. "Will that cause a problem?" Si asked as he clasped hands with Saoka.

"Never," Saoka replied as he realised Si' hand and then he turned to Teyla. "Emmagan, _always_ a pleasure," he added, his voice dripping with seductive flirtatiousness. John felt himself bristle despite his best intentions not to.

"Saoka," Teyla replied and her voice was warmer than it had been since the attack on Athos. It did nothing to help John's bristling.

John looked away, looking around the lush office again, but this time he decided it was all far too flashy, and would not have looked out of place as some swinger's pad in an Austin Powers movie.

"I regret to hear the news from Athos," Saoka said. "If there is anything your family need, only ask."

"I will pass the offer along," Teyla replied. John couldn't see her face from where he stood towards the back of Si' 'party', but he suspected he heard a smile in her voice. "However, right now, we need a way of reaching Dreamstation undetected."

"Yes, it will not be a problem. However," Saoka added with an exaggerated wince, "the accommodations will be far from comfortable. The only way to get you to Scum-station is to, ironically, smuggle you there."

Saoka was clearly enjoying his moment, and smiled as he turned away and reached out towards his bodyguard, whom John realised now had his suspicion focused on John and Ford.

"Nanuet," Saoka stated to his guard, "the pad please."

Nanuet looked away from John's direct eye contact and frowned at his employer.

"Mol will not be pleased with unknowns on his ship," he stated in a ridiculously deep voice, but he turned and retrieved a pad from the desk and handed it to Saoka.

Saoka took it and handed it to Teyla, but his gaze moved to meet John's. John met it nice and directly, aware that there was far too much challenge in it.

"I assume that these men are trustworthy?" Saoka asked, and there was an amused smoothness to his voice that annoyed John.

"Are _you_ trustworthy?" John asked without thinking first.

Saoka smiled at the question though. "A fair and important question."

"It would be best if you forget seeing these two men," Teyla suggested to Saoka as she handed the pad back to him, having read what was on it.

Saoka's dark eyes slid to Teyla with more interest. "Really? How interesting."

"Saoka," Si warned, but there was amusement in his voice. "When do we leave?"

"Mol's ship is the heavy duty mining ship you will see outside on the third docking arm. He has a large crew, but they remain in the upper levels during the heavy loads. There are several cargo areas that are separate from the ore, and are clean and safe to travel in. At least that is what I have heard through rumours and such," he added with a smooth sarcastic smile. Reluctantly, John altered his assessment of Saoka to Austin Powers meets Han Solo. Did he have to be so annoyingly handsome and well dressed though?

"Mol is running his ore out of the territory to several small systems who will likely soon be part of our glorious Alliance," Saoka added, smiling with that touch of sarcasm again. "However, he does often run via Dreamstation, to trade legitimately, obviously." John almost rolled his eyes. "He is not due to depart for several more hours, but I have suggested that it would be best if he left sooner. He will be expecting you at the location on the pad."

"Thank you, Saoka," Teyla told him with another one of those smiles in her voice.

"I regret the cargo will take up most of the hold you will be in and it's likely that you will be very cramped for the three hour trip to Dreamstation, but it will get you there. None of his crew will even know you were there."

"Thanks, Suckie," Si stated with a sarcastic smile of his own as he reached out and clasped Saoka's hand again.

"Just don't mention this to anyone, okay, Sickie," Saoka replied clearly enjoying some running joke with Si. "Oh, and, it's probably best that you don't look in any of the crates that Mol may be transporting."

John rolled his eyes this time as he turned away and led the way back to the exit. A guard triggered the star trek style doors open for them and they headed out into the hallway outside Suckie's bachelor pad.

Mol's mining ship turned out to be a massive hulk of metal that hug in the empty vacuum outside the station. It was vaguely ship shaped, but only just. It was clearly of the built cheaply but to last variety. The inside wasn't any better by John's estimation. Mol had turned out to be a small guy with a moustache that curled up from his lips as if it was trying to smile at the world. Mol himself didn't look like he ever smiled. He had a bit too much weight on him and he wheezed slightly as he tugged open the heavy duty doors inside his mining ship. The inner doors looked built to hold in decompression and it worried John slightly that all of them throughout the ship looked the same. Were they really expecting the middle area of the ship to be exposed to space? All the walls were simple metal, with no attention at decoration or even at being cleaned – it was just a metal ship and nothing more.

Mol led them by himself down the ship, stomping down a long sheet metal staircase down into the belly of the brute. There he tugged open a massive door, on the other side of which John caught the smell of all the things that gathered and bred in the pipes off a toilet. There was a heavy rhythmic pounding in the distance and as the door opened, with its offensive smell, the sound of the loud pounding added to the vibration through the floor and walls around them. Fortunately though, Mol led them to a door to the left, which he gripped hold of and wrenched open to reveal a long narrow cargo hold, literally stacked to the brim with crates. Mol waved them inside.

"There's no water, no sewerage, nothing but air and a view," Mol stated as the group all passed him and entered the cargo hold that was to be their home for the next three and whatever hours. "You'll hear the buzz when we're docked at Dreamstation, you'll see yourselves off the ship then. I'll be at the station for an hour at the most, but then I'm headed further out from Alliance territory."

"We will not need you to remain longer," Teyla stated. She had held back near the door, pressed to the wall as the Elite males had passed her to get into the small corridor of space that ran at the edge of the cargo hold. "I trust that our presence will remain ignored and unknown."

"Of course," Mol replied and John saw some real nervousness in the guy now. John passed him, last into the cargo hold, and the darkness of the cargo hold engulfed his senses.

"Then your involvement will also go unknown," Teyla told Mol from John's left. He had to pass right close to her to move around the crates, but he made sure to give her enough room in front of Mol. "But, it will not go forgotten by the Elite," Teyla told Mol.

Mol didn't say anything in response, but John glanced back and saw the man nod before he reached out and pulled the heavy door shut behind him as he left. As it slid heavily into place, the sounds and smells of the room beyond were also cut off and John breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"All clear in here," Si' voice called out from ahead. "No signals, no unexplained energy signatures, and nothing toxic."

John moved forward, squeezing between crates towards the wall of the cargo bay where the others had gone. There he found a narrow walkway of space lining the bay. The crates didn't reach the cargo bay wall, which was a little odd, but John suspected it might have something to do with smuggling. The narrow space meant that there was just about enough room at the edge of the bay for them to sit at least. There were small pale green lights spaced along the wall above head height, but as John followed the corridor of limited space, following behind Ford's shadowed back, he realised there was more light getting in from somewhere else. The walk space curved slightly to the right, following the outer edge of the ship, and several tiny portholes came into view, level with the floor.

"Strange place for windows," Ford muttered to John, looking back over his shoulder.

"It's for smuggling searches," Si replied from further ahead, but John couldn't see him. Though there was space near the wall, some of the crates were stacked out into it in places, narrowing the walk space further so that he had to squeeze up against the bay wall to get past those sections. "When docked, small searcher ships can look and scan inside the cargo holds, make sure no one's hiding inside," Si continued from ahead in the dim light.

"I'm guessing they're not going to be doing that at Dreamstation," John asked.

"They'll more likely be trying to get in to hide," Si replied. "No transponders in here either. We're definitely clear in here," he reported.

There was a pop and a scrape of metal and wood. "These crates here have circuit board components in them," Oneakka reported and John didn't bother pointing out that they had said they wouldn't look inside the crates.

"Heading out from Vastus maybe," Si considered.

"Alliance technology is supposed to stay in Alliance territory right?" Ford asked.

"Yes, it is," Teyla replied from behind John. He glanced round in the semidarkness to see her shape moving towards him.

"Can we trust Mol to keep our presence here quiet?" John asked her.

"I believe so," Teyla replied. "He would be foolish to create an enemy of the Elite; we already know enough of him, and betraying us would also upset Saoka and Mol could not afford that."

"Saoka was being truthful when he said there was little room here," Si muttered from the floor level far ahead of John where he apparently had found a place to sit down.

"At least there's some space to spread out," Ford added optimistically as he crouched down further down the walk-space from John. In the light of the small porthole near him, John saw Ford settling down with his back up against some crates, P90 against his middle.

"I'm taking some of these," Oneakka announced from further away in the bay, well out of view. There were rummaging noises as Oneakka helped himself to what was in the crates.

"Oneakka," Si reprimanded.

"They're illegal and no one will notice," Oneakka argued, clearly not caring. "They're smugglers."

"Anything useful?" Si asked, changing his tune.

Oneakka grunted and there was a clatter of metal hitting the floor. "Might be able to make some jammers with this. Maybe a circuit breaker."

"It'll keep you quiet if nothing else," Si said and Teyla chuckled slightly from behind John.

At the next porthole down from Ford now, John studied the floor, seeking out the best place to make himself comfortable for the next three hours or so. There wasn't much of a choice. The floor was cold and hard, but at least the crates here were wooden mostly and warmer to his touch than the floor as he crouched down. Several crates were slightly further back than the rest so John pressed his back to them, which gave him just enough space to sit with his legs out but bent, his boots set on the wall by the porthole, but he comfortable enough for now. He tucked the P90 against him and shifted for more space as he looked back down the walk space and saw that Teyla had settled in front of the next porthole down.

"At least we all get a window seat," John joked.

Teyla didn't reply though, probably assuming he was talking to Ford. She pulled out her two gun and three knives and set them on the floor beside her. With quick efficient movements visible to John by the porthole's light, she separated the pieces of the first gun and began cleaning and checking it thoroughly. She was in her own world, that wall of control firmly in place and John didn't need to ask to know that she didn't want to be disturbed out of it.

John turned his attention back to his porthole view, from which he could see some of the planet below. As he shifted his butt against the cold floor, something crunched slightly in one of the vest pockets. After some prodding, he found a candy bar in one of Lorne's vest pockets, one he hadn't gotten around to trading earlier at the carnival. John pulled it out and pulled open the wrapper. It had started out such a good day, and look where he had ended up.

He bit into the bar, and though it was far too warm, it tasted good and it would give him some more energy for what was to come. Chewing on his mouthful, John glanced at Teyla again and watched her lift the cleaned gun, the starlight glimmering along the well kept barrel.

He looked away, leaving her to her Elite routine; he understood. He had his own coping techniques and he suspected that her mind was turning, both back on Athos and on Iketani.

John took another mouthful of his snack and fixed his attention on the planet below. At least he had a good view.

000000

The rumble of whatever engines there were powering the mining ship created a faint background soundtrack as John sat, arms crossed over his middle and eyes closed. He had managed to sleep lightly for a bit, but the true pull of deeper sleep just wasn't going to happen. He just rested instead, his eyes closed, and listening to the rumble of the engines through the metal floor.

To the right, he could just about hear Ford's deeper sleeping breathing, and beyond him, deeper along the edge of the cargo bay, John could hear the tiny tinkering noises of Oneakka making whatever it was he was making. John focused on those tiny noises, just breaking through over the engine rumble, or maybe it was some sewerage or water system working in the next hold. At least the smell hadn't made it in here, or this trip might have been unbearable, instead the cargo bay smelt like straw and dust.

A scratch of movement in the distance and John heard another crate lid being prised open. Soft movement and a small amount of distant muttering amused John for a few moments as Oneakka grumbled about smugglers as he fished through another crate. Si was silent, probably napping like Ford. Oneakka grumbled again and then there was a series of light taps as he secured the crates' lids back into place. Then silence again, except for the rumble of the engines and Ford's soft breathing several metres away to John's right.

John shifted his awareness to his left, but Teyla was completely silent.

He opened his eyes, the moving light of hyperspace bright outside the small porthole by his right boot. He looked away towards Teyla, through the darkness of the cargo bay.

She sat by her own porthole, the hyperspace light glowing over her face. She was awake, sat straight-backed against the crates behind her, all her attention focused on watching the wild energies of hyperspace outside.

John could see that her mind was far away from this cargo hold.

He should leave her be, let her keep that wall of distance around her for what was to come.

Yet, he itched to go talk to her. As he watched, he recalled sitting in the Athosian tearoom, watching her and her family, with Sitayi at his side. Sitayi had said something about Teyla's family being powerful and strong, but that they too had their weaknesses. She had said that often one's greatest weakness was linked to their greatest strength. John suddenly had a deeper understanding of that wisdom, for in front of him now John saw Teyla's weakness.

She loved her family, but she was an Elite warrior. Elite were powerful, strong, supposedly uncaring about anything other than their mission to rid the galaxy of the Wraith. But, Teyla was close to her family, she cared about them, loved them deeply, and Iketani had known that. Iketani had exposed that weakness to Teyla spectacularly and now Teyla was angry, afraid, and possibly also ready to cut ties for good.

That thought worried him, not just because it may very well extend to him, but because the woman sat metres away from him, her face still and tense in the light of hyperspace, wasn't the woman he knew. Even when he had first met her in battle, then in the marketing station and even in the mist of battle afterwards, she had always been calm and in control. She had always been composed, in intelligent control of herself and the situation around her, even in the middle of a crashing Hastos or surrounded by an army of Wraith out for blood. Then, spending time with her in Tjaru, he had gotten to know her a little bit more, had found how strong her sense of humour was and had even enjoyed some nice relaxed flirtation.

All of that calm, control, humour, and emotional peace had disappeared from her the moment she had realised where that other assassin had been heading through the Gateway of Tjaru. That her family had been in imminent danger.

She was angry at Iketani, but he suspected she was also angry at herself.

He didn't know her as well as Si and Oneakka did, but he would bet anything that he was right.

Because that was how he would feel in her place, and he had seen the fearful panic in her eyes when she had realised the threat to her family and how she had raced flat-out through Tjaru to save them.

He could remember hearing the animal rage in her battle cry as she had beheaded the assassin who had been a split second away from killing her father.

John had almost forgotten the Elite in her, the warrior forged to kill and nothing else, and he suspected she thought the same of herself as well.

He watched her now, doing nothing but blink as she sat as still as a statue. Was it his place to talk to her? To try to help her? What could he say and was it right to even try? She was an Elite warrior and he had forgotten that in all the easy conversations and gentle flirting.

He looked away from her, his feelings surprisingly confused and chaotic. There was nothing wrong with talking with her about what was to come, to want to hear her talk to him again. Yet, he struggled with the decision. He was an outsider still and sat here, in a massive Alliance ship about to raid a spacestation with just Ford and three Elite…how had he gotten himself here? Ever since he had first ended up on that first Alliance marketing station his life had been changing, veering off in some unexpected and unpredictable directions. She had been filling his mind far too much and his opinions on the Alliance had been irrevocably altered from all his experiences in her space. Teyla had altered his life, and Atlantis', considerably and right now, in some weird way, he felt that maybe, just maybe, he could help her a little instead. Which was crazy because he was the last guy to know how best to deal with bad things and emotional issues, but then, maybe that only made him and Teyla more alike.

He looked away to Ford to his far right, and saw that he was still asleep, at least as deep as a soldier could when sat up and heading into trouble. John took a breath and quietly pushed himself up off the floor, suddenly glad for the chance to stretch his legs out properly. He shook out his legs and stretched his back, glanced at Ford again, who hadn't moved, and then John made his way quietly towards Teyla. She might tell him to go away, or she might want to sit in silence, but he had to offer his support, even in this small way.

She registered his approach only at the last moment, which confirmed to him how deep in thought she had been. She looked up at him with a concerned question in her eyes, wondering if there was something wrong. John smiled, making it clear that all was fine – at least for now. He settled on the floor again, just to her right, and she didn't object. He resumed his former position, legs stretched out as much as possible, only now a porthole was beside his left boot and Teyla's on the other side of it, the light of hyperspace glowing in through the porthole between them.

"I was getting bored sitting by myself," John said as way of an excuse.

She gave him a slight strained smile, but her attention returned to the hyperspace lightshow outside. At least she hadn't asked him to leave her alone.

He shifted around against the cold patch of floor, finding somewhere close to a comfortable position, back against the crates. He glanced at her beside him, her shoulder a handful of inches away from his, and saw that her swords were still on her back. Surely she couldn't be all that comfortable sitting so long with them between her back and the crates. Or maybe there was padding around them. Maybe she was just used to it.

John looked away from her tense face and glanced down at his watch. They had been in hyperspace for just over two hours. They were due to hit Dreamstation in just over three Alliance hours, which, if John remembered the conversion correctly, was roughly equal to something like two hours and fifty minutes by Earth time.

He took a breath, the straw and metal scent heavy in the air. She hadn't told him to give her space, but now it was up to him to start the conversation, and he had no idea what to say to her.

"What's Dreamstation going to be like?" He asked, deciding that it would be best to start with business with her right now and it was vital information to him to know anyway. He kept his voice low, not wanting to disturb the others, but also because there was a sense of privacy sat with her here.

"It is a small station, twelve levels I believe," she replied, her voice lowered like his, but her tone remained controlled. He suspected she had thought he was going to say something else to her. Maybe she already knew why he had approached her, which was fine with him, because maybe that would be enough to make it clear that she had some emotional support. It was him, but it was support nonetheless, even if the tough Elite warrior in her didn't want to admit she might need it.

"You've been there before?" John asked.

"Only once. The Elite have two contacts who work in the station, and we will approach them when we arrive. They should know where she is in the station. Dreamstation is a maze of tight corridors and rooms, designed for people to hide. The most powerful among their number live in the higher levels. The lowest levels are for the public pleasure pursuits."

"So you think Iketani will be in the lower levels?" John asked.

"Possibly," she replied. "Or she may be hiding in her room." Bitterness had bled into her words as she said that, and John saw her biting the inside of her lip as she kept staring determinately out of the porthole.

John wanted to tell her that she couldn't have known Iketani was alive, that she couldn't have predicted what would happen, but he didn't, because she knew that already and she still wouldn't believe him. He couldn't tell her everything would be okay, because they were heading into a den of criminals to find Iketani, a trained killer.

"At least your family is okay," he offered instead, his voice even lower.

He saw the muscles of her closest cheek move as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. She let out a loud breath.

"Yes, they are," she finally agreed.

"And we'll get Iketani," he added.

She nodded. "Yes, we will," she stated with complete conviction.

John nodded, more to himself, because she hadn't taken her eyes away from the porthole.

What more was there to say really?

He turned his attention to the porthole himself, watching the streaking white and blues of hyperspace. He leant his head back against he crate behind him and Teyla and made himself relax. He felt better at least sitting beside her now.

They sat in silence for some time, and John made sure not to look at Teyla too much, because she could clearly see him in her peripheral vision. He had already checked over his weapons and gone through all the pockets of Lorne's tac vest, which were all fully stocked and ready for action. There was nothing to do now but wait.

The sound of another crate being opened by Oneakka drew John's attention, and this time he heard Si' deeper voice quietly talking with the other Elite. John couldn't make it out what they were saying, but he suspected that they were talking about whatever it was Oneakka was making with his requisitioned pieces of technology. There were more rummaging sounds in a crate.

"What exactly is he making?" John asked Teyla, hoping that the amusement he forced in his voice might help distract her.

This time Teyla looked away from the porthole and off past John into the darkness of the cargo bay. "Most likely several items that will assist us when we reach Dreamstation," she replied.

"I never pegged him as a tinkerer," John said, watching her and hoping that she might meet his eyes again.

"Oneakka is skilled at many things," she replied simply, but some warmth had returned to her voice as she said it.

"Seems all you Elite are," John added.

"Yes," Teyla replied, the warmth disappearing in an instant and she looked back out of the porthole.

John held quiet a moment, still debating about pushing things. He hadn't really known her that long, but he honestly thought that he had a good idea of how she was thinking, and he was sure that he wanted to help.

"You can't predict the future though," John added quietly and honestly, keeping his eyes on her.

Teyla didn't reply, but there was a new stillness to her and then she frowned faintly.

"I should have known-" she said.

"You couldn't have known," John interrupted her immediately, keeping his voice low and certain. "No one could have."

Teyla looked slightly away from the porthole, not right at him, but close. "She was an Elite, I should have known she would have prepared for anything."

"You're telling me that you have a plan to come back from the dead after being shot by a Wraith Queen?" He asked her, incredulous.

She frowned at that, her mood lightening a fraction, and John knew he had won the point though she might not admit it.

"Well, we know she's alive now and we'll get her," John added quickly, wanting to keep her mood lifted for as long as possible.

"She will pay for what she planned this day," Teyla stated and the warmth in her was long gone again. John couldn't really blame her. "She went after my family," she added. John had heard the briefest glimpse of raw emotion in her voice amongst the anger.

"You couldn't have known," he repeated, for that was all he could say. "And you saved them, they're okay."

Teyla finally looked round at him, meeting his gaze properly. "Because of you. If you had not recognised those men as being hostile…"

"You stopped two of them. I would never have caught up with them like you did in the family courtyard," John replied, realising how weird it was to be comforting an Elite warrior, but she didn't seem to be taking offense.

"We were fortunate today," Teyla replied. "Fortunate that you saw those men, fortunate that we caught up with them in time, but not fortunate enough for Garthew or for the poisoned recruits. She won half this day and perhaps has damaged more than we can yet foresee."

John considered her point soberly. "Do you think she's got even more planned?"

"Even if she does not, she has done considerable damage, to the High Council, to the reputation of the Elite if the truth is revealed, and to the acceptance of Atlantis. She has covered her own tracks of her past misdeeds, removing those who could testify against her."

"Garthew as well as Breack?" John asked.

"He was in league with Iketani when she had tried to take control of the High Council. The Elite have been watching him, waiting and gathering evidence against him, but it appears that he knew more than we realised for her to assassinate him."

"Or he was just conveniently there on Athos," John considered, but he didn't really believe it himself.

"She planned this too carefully," Teyla disagreed.

John considered that. "Except, she didn't know that my team would be there," John thought out loud. "That we identified the assassins before they did too much damage."

Teyla nodded. "One element in our favour is that Dreamstation is communication silent for the most part, and it is likely that she will not have heard yet of the failure of her plan."

"If she does, she may have left Dreamstation," John replied.

"True, but we left Athos within half an hour of the incident and that was almost three hours ago. There is no portal on or near Dreamstation, and I suspect that her chosen assassins had not intended to contact her afterwards for some time and it would not have been there. Even if she has informants still in Alliance space, they should not have had enough time to be sure of exactly what occurred on Athos."

John nodded. She was probably right.

"Besides, I suspect Iketani will be waiting for me to find her," Teyla added. "Though likely not as soon as this. She will be expecting me to be full of grief and to be greatly limited by it."

The cold anger had returned to her voice. John held his tongue in pointing out that maybe Iketani had still succeeded in affecting Teyla big time.

"This must never happen again," she added more quietly and it had an air of cold promise to it.

John considered that. "You can't watch over your family all the time," he said carefully.

She was silent at that. She was clearly back in her internal war of what had happened and what she was going to do about it. John waited, hoping she would take the opportunity he silently offered her to share more if she wanted.

"Elite live away from their families for a reason," she said suddenly, as if the words had forced their way out from the middle of her inner argument. "It is one of the main reasons why we gather recruits when they are young, to train them well, but also to remove those ties of family early. Attachments create weakness and distraction," she stated, and John felt something twist inside him. "I have remained too close to my family and that is why Iketani targeted them. This is my fault."

John held quiet, mulling over what he could say. In some ways, she was echoing his own thoughts from his own past. When he and Nancy had divorced, he had thought the exact same thing, and when he had been all but ostracised by his family he had told himself that family would just have been a distraction from his work. He still told himself that argument from time to time – that having someone too close could lead to pain for them as much as for him. He lived a dangerous life.

He agreed with her.

Except, hearing the argument from another, made him see all the holes in it and that it was so clearly founded in fear.

On this occasion, it wasn't him on the inside of the argument, he was on the outside on the receiving end, looking in and wishing to be closer to her. He had seen this in her from back in the family courtyard, he had seen the walls come up around her, and how she hadn't met his eyes directly. She was giving him fair warning it seemed, as he had done with women before, but this wasn't just about him, this was about her and her family. John had seen clearly that she loved her family, despite some reservations about Zabetha's choice in husband – John wondered how Rhakshar was doing.

"I am an Elite and as such I have to surrender certain things. Iketani has reminded me of that at least," Teyla continued, more likely to herself than to him.

He watched her in silence and realised something new and worrying. Her cold indifferent expression was a little too close to the expression he had seen on Iketani before. Minus the sarcastic seductress that Iketani had been. John wondered if she was that way anymore. If Iketani had been pulled back from the brink of death, she likely had some pretty serious injuries. Maybe she couldn't fight Teyla the way she could have before, and maybe she couldn't be the temptress of before. That would have made her mad, and even more vengeful.

"Maybe that's what she wanted," John suggested cautiously, as Teyla kept her stubborn gaze directed out through the porthole. "To isolate you, leave you angry, full of hate, and alone…like her," he said quietly and carefully.

Teyla looked round sharply at his words, her eyes meeting his fully again. The porthole light glowed up between them, giving him a clear view of her face as she considered his words, her dark eyes lit only with the faint sparkle of light from outside.

John held her gaze, feeling his next words forcing themselves forward.

"Don't let her win," he told her.

Teyla's eyes widened slightly before she glanced down and away from him, but she didn't turn away again.

For a moment, John questioned his own reasons behind what he had argued, but he still believed what he had said. To him it was clear that Iketani could still take Teyla's family from her, if not literally as she had planned, then emotionally, because this really could make Teyla distance herself completely from those she loved. He didn't want that to happen, even if he himself had to have some distance from her, he didn't want her to lose her strong loving family. She deserved to be loved in return.

Teyla was silent, but she nodded and, after a moment, John felt as if something in her changed, a relaxing of that strong wall of control. In wasn't a lot, but it was enough for now, and he felt a surprising wash of relief. Silence hung heavily around them, but it felt more comfortable now, more companionable.

"Thank you, John," she said quietly again, but her attention was back on the porthole, and this time he thought he saw more emotion in her eyes. He was relieved that she hadn't minded him saying what he had, that he might have helped some way, and that maybe she might reconsider cutting her emotional ties once this was over.

"Anytime," he replied quietly as he watched her beautiful face a little longer, and then he made himself look away.

He focused on the swirling lights outside the porthole himself. All he could hope was that she wouldn't break all ties – with her family yes, but also with him.

Damn Iketani.

00000  
>TBC<p> 


	24. Dreamstation

**Chapter 24 - Dreamstation**

0000

Creass bent over the small screen set into the control console and ran his eyes over the message yet again. It didn't matter how many times he looked at it, the truth remained a cold bitter taste in his mouth.

"Wraith shit!" He spat down towards the screen.

The twice-daily communications transfer had completed half an hour ago, but he hadn't moved away from the communications screen since he had seen this message.

He kept looking away from it though, as he did now, lifting his gaze to the squat wide windows that looked out at the system which Dreamstation made its home. The station ran a continuous elliptical orbit through the system, and this view from the control room never faced in towards the central dying sun, instead it was always turned towards the vast expanse of distant stars. Those pinpoints of light glowed into the dim interior of the control room now and, along with the multitude of tiny lights across the control consoles, it was the only illumination. Almost every part of Dreamstation was dark.

"Wraith shit," Creass cursed again as he slammed a fist down against the top of the console. He had had it built to withstand more than his angry punches, so he hit it again.

"You seem surprised," Seeal commented. Her tone was as it always was - somewhat bored and indifferent. He glanced at her reflection, seeing that she too had not moved from where she stood leant against the wall behind him, her arms crossed and her expression as bored as her tone had been. He resisted the urge to tell her what he thought of such an unhelpful and ill-timed comment.

He looked back down to the simple message displayed on the communications screen and resisted the urge to punch the console again.

"She knew they would find her," he uttered angrily.

"Of course she did," Seeal replied, unhelpfully again, her tone now slightly more exasperated, probably because she had listened to him curse blind for the last half hour.

He looked over his shoulder at her. "If you've got nothing useful to suggest then go find someone to patter empty words to or to fuck," he told her roughly, his anger finding a new target.

Seeal simply responded by rolling her eyes and looking away, completely nonplussed by his temper and words. She sighed heavily. "They will be here shortly. What are you going to do?"

Creass returned his frustrated attention back to the message on the small screen in front of him.

The Elite were on their way to Dreamstation.

It had taken years to get a spy into Saoka's organisation. Saoka had the instincts of a brush-rat, easily sniffing out what was rotten, probably because he was as rotten through himself. Saoka might trade in the light of the Alliance, all smartly dressed and using pathetic smiles, but he was exactly the same as Creass.

They had crossed paths once or twice when they had been younger, though Saoka was younger by a good decade. There was no difference between them deep down though, they were in the same business; it was just that Saoka had set up shop in full public view. Saoka's stations and marketing halls were only the more shiny Alliance versions of Dreamstation. Saoka had shown his true nature clear enough in the past though. He may smile on public broadcasts and give money to child orphanages or whatever crap sickly sweet public shows of honesty he chose to display, but Saoka was a killing fish, sliding just under the surface of acceptability.

Creass was a deepwater creature, hidden in the darkness and he was happy with that. He ruled his one station tightly and he got a hell of a lot of cash out of it. Those trading in the shadows were always willing to pay him for somewhere to hold their 'negotiations', as well as for his silence. He didn't give a crap what they got up to, though he knew every important detail of who entered his station and what they did while they were there, but they could rot in their own filth for all he cared.

But Elite…

They were a force to themselves, a foolish idiotic bunch of arrogant fuckers who thought nothing could ever stand in their way. They trained from children to be the single-minded morons they were – they developed their superiority and advanced fighting skills just long enough to kill a few Wraith Queens and then get themselves killed off young. A stupid way to live – dedicating your entire life to the moment you got slaughtered on some Hive ship, to be replaced quickly enough by some other hero crazed madman with a shiny blade. Just what he needed heading in to his station.

There were only two ships due in at Dreamstation in the next half-day cycle, and Mol's ship had just appeared out of hyperspace, hours early. The Elite would be aboard his ship.

"Wraith shit balls," Creass cursed again.

"You want me to break into her quarters and see what she left?" Seeal asked, and not for the first time.

"Damn it, no!" Creass replied immediately.

Iketani had left the station yesterday morning, off on some short trip, she had said, off to retrieve something important. Kolya had left barely an hour after her in the opposite direction, but that had hardly been a surprise to Creass. Iketani hadn't returned today as she had planed though. Vermin abandoning a ship about to breach to vacuum. They had left him in the path of the Elite.

He was somewhat surprised by Iketani' treatment of him. She had been a useful contact for a long time and they had done some good business, and fucking, in the past. It seemed he had reached the end of his usefulness for her.

"Elite leave traps, you open her quarters' door and we could end up destroying half the station or releasing something…toxic," he told Seeal, aware of the irony of his words. "We've been useful to her, but 'there's nothing binding between the dishonest'," he quoted.

He took a breath and released it as he dropped his head down, letting his mind turn on how best to deal with this situation. He rarely lost his temper to this extent, but Elite… Arrogant fuckers.

"Maybe she still thinks you're useful to her," Seela considered and Creass glanced back to her. "A guard at her door," she added with a nasty smile.

Creass got her point. "She thinks I'll cover her backside with the Elite?"

Seeal shrugged and said nothing, but her expression said enough.

"You think some time rolling around her bed is going to make me _stupid_?" He asked her incredulously.

"You let her in Dreamstation," Seeal replied as if that was evidence enough for her. She had never liked Iketani, but then most of those who passed through the station were 'undesirables'.

"You think forbidding an ex-Elite warrior with her connections from trading in Dreamstation would have been smarter?" Creass asked her.

Seeal sighed; as if the whole conversation was so obvious it wasn't worth her time saying it, which was how she seemed to think of most things. Not for the first time did he wonder why, with the attitude of everything being beneath her, did she live and work here in Dreamstation.

"She thinks you're going to let the Elite spend their time turning Dreamstation over looking for her. She doesn't care that you may get killed, or your business destroyed," Seeal stated assuredly. "You think the Elite are going to forget that you let her use the station? You think they'll be all sultry with you the way that creature was? She used you and now she's letting you die in her place. If nothing else, she knows the Elite will lose time finding her by dealing with you."

No one in the universe got talk to him the way Seeal did, well they could, but they didn't live long afterwards.

Seeal had a way of cutting to the central point of any issue, and she didn't care about pleasing him in the way she said it or fearing reprisal for what she said. It was one of the reasons why she was so very useful to him, along with her ability to kill someone quicker than anyone he had ever met. He still got a hell of a lot of amusement at watching people underestimate the quiet, bored looking, tall skinny woman always near his shoulder. She was as far from weak as you could ever get. Her only bad point, as far as he was concerned, was that she had never let him in her bed. Or maybe that was just a sign of her intellect.

A bleep from the console drew his attention back to the communications screen, and he sighed heavily with a growl as it flashed up the request to dock from Mol's mining behemoth.

Creass held still for several long seconds, considering everything with a more logical mindset, and then triggered the automatic docking instructions message.

Seeal was right – he could play Iketani' game and likely get himself killed and/or his business ruined. He took a deep breath, drawing together his focus around the anger, and stood up straight from the console. "Wraith shit," he whispered to himself again.

Maybe today he would follow Saoka's lead. The man disliked military and legal systems, for obvious reasons, but Saoka was known by those in the know that he worked willingly with the Elite.

Creass took another breath and regained control of himself.

He squeezed his fists tight and then released them, his calming ritual, and he made his decision. It was the only course ahead of him and the best chance of getting out of this with his business intact, after all what did the Elite really care about Dreamstation? Well, today he would find out the answer to that question.

He turned and strode towards the door, Seeal falling into step behind him. The door slid open at his command and he made his way down through his office and out into the stairwell that would take him down to the 'reception lounge' as he and Seeal ruefully called it.

His and Seeal's boots echoed out down the mesh metal staircase, purposefully designed to produce so much noise as to prevent anyone sneaking up the stairs unheard towards the control centre of the station. Those of his staff who he passed were none the wiser about who was about to arrive on Dreamstation, but then they too all understood the importance of silence and discretion in this business.

He reached the open space off the docking arm that Mol's ship had just latched to, and Creass stopped, right in the middle of the 'reception lounge'. He planted his feet solidly and folded his hands over each other in front of him, aware belatedly that he was protecting the most vulnerable area of himself. He shifted his shoulders and stood still and solidly. He knew he was an intimidating man, built like the street fighter he had been, big shoulders, arms and legs. He had been in enough fights in his early years on the streets of his home planet, and though he had won most of them, they had left enough scars on his face and hands to make a clear point to anyone who met him. His nose had been broken at least twice that he could remember through concussions, and he had purposefully decided not to have it set back straight the last time. In his business, appearance was just as important as it was to a wealthy station owner like Saoka.

The hatch opened down the length of the docking corridor that stretched out directly ahead of him. Would the Elite sneak onboard the station, last out of Mol's ship, or would they be first?

He had never met an Elite face to face, but he had seen them enough, and he had steadfastly avoided them. Not out of fear, but because you didn't want any kind of attention in his business from anyone with that much power and reach. Especially from such idealised fanatics as the Elite. They thought themselves better because they killed Wraith, but they were just as brutal as he was, or anyone who used his station. They just dressed up their basic instincts in a veil of idolisation, and used the fear of Wraith as their meal ticket. He wasn't fooled by them, but they had a lot of power in the Alliance.

He knew more than most how to deal with difficult situations though; the key was to know what the other side wanted and then see that it got arranged in the way that best served you. Right now, making sure the Elite didn't think him a target was the best move he had.

The hallway ahead, and its open hatch, remained silent.

Creass almost smiled. He would bet anything that Mol would keep his crew inside the ship until the Elite left first. Once they were off the ship, Mol could deny all knowledge, but it would be hard to do that if the Elite had wandered off the ship among his crew.

A shift of shadows at the hatch focused Creass' attention. He wondered if the Elite would peer out first.

A massive man stepped out of the hatch, his wide darkly skinned shoulders filling the width of the doorway, and the dull light of the docking corridor's overhead strip lighting glittered over the largest collection of weaponry any man could conceivably carry on his body. The Elite male strode forward, massively strong arms loose at his sides, but the dark tattoos across both forearms seemed to shift as if alive as he moved. The man's eyes were already locked on Creass, and Creass made himself stand even taller and lock his jaw tight.

Behind the male another two Elite appeared through the hatch.

The woman was instantly recognisable – Wraith shit – Emmagan herself was here!

Creass had seen her fight once, in some competition at a market fair many years ago. She had been barely out of her teenage years, but her fame had been known by most. Back then, the Elite had just hammered the Wraith out of the most populated systems in the outer territories of Alliance space. Something like ten Wraith Queens had been killed in a week or something and the Wraith had been crippled like never before. There had been stories about Emmagan in particular, something about her standing off in battle against several hundred Wraith alone. She was one of the Elite Seekers, able to sense Wraith thoughts and able to attack them with her mind as well as her fists. She had apparently, if rumour and legend was to be believed, killed seven of those ten Queens that week.

She was obviously older now, but the time had only filled her out in all the best ways. She wore a dark coat, open at her waist to reveal guns and knives at her hips and thighs, and, over her shoulders, he could see the hilts of her famous swords. However, her face caught his attention the most, for, in her expression, he saw cold determination and focused anger.

A chill went through him then.

Elite were famous for their indifference, for they were the Alliance's emotionless killing machines. However, in her assessing eyes, he saw heavy bitter emotion, and it was focused on him. He knew instantly that she knew exactly who he was, and that she was blaming him for whatever Wraith shit Iketani had kicked up.

Creass looked away from her, making it seem that he was simply looking at each Elite in turn, but in truth he needed to look away from the greatest skilled Queen killer there was, who was currently fixing her angry stare on him and him alone.

However, the large pale Elite man next to Emmagan was no better. The Elite tattoos stood out sharply across one side of the warrior's savaged face, the tattoos shifting as he strode forward under the lights, and forever changing the meaning of the word 'menacing'.

Creass had thought he could stand toe to toe with these warriors, for he had dealt with far worse of life's scum, both terrifying and deceitful, but these Elite…he felt instantly fearful. It wasn't an emotion he was used to feeling, and it angered him to feel it now.

He knew he was out of his league here. Well, fuck Iketani, she wanted to leave him for the Elite to eat up, well, he knew how to look out for himself. He would step up to this league now because he had too.

The Elite had almost reached the lounge, and as they did, Creass realised there were two more men behind them, but he caught only brief glimpses of them, revealing nothing more than an unknown black uniform and guns clearly on display.

Creass resisted the natural urge to shift his stance, to look away for a moment, but he couldn't show any weakness right now, for he knew without doubt that here he was the prey and these were real predators.

They were less than five metres away when he chose to move forward. He dropped his arms to his sides, his hands empty, backing up the appearance that he wasn't wearing any obvious weaponry. He was used to playing the role of confident fucker and he had to hold onto that right now.

"The woman you're after has gone," he stated first, cutting straight to the chase, he was a blunt man and he would bet Elite were too.

The Elite reached the more open space of the reception lounge and the three warriors spread out, which Creass steadfastly didn't react to, he just kept his chin up and his expression blank. He would show no fear, but he wouldn't show anything challenging either.

"But she was here," the massive dark skinned Elite stated. Creass noticed that he had another small tattoo across his cheek. The man crossed his arms, which were like tree trunks, and the forearm tattoos shifted with his skin. Each tattoo was a Wraith Queen killed by his hands.

"Yes, she was," Creass replied. "She left yesterday, supposedly to return here this morning. She never returned."

"And we should believe you why?" The pale, scarred Elite asked as he kept walking forward, right up into Creass' space. He stopped inches away from Creass, the threat of physical violence vibrating the air around them.

Creass locked his eyes with the cold pale Elite ones, seeing the arrogant superiority there, but also the plain fact that this man would kill him instantly if needed.

"I have no interest in protecting her," he told the Elite. "You can search the entire station if you wish."

He kept his gaze locked with the Elite's, suppressing every fibre of his being that shouted at him to step back and away from this man. Creass had stood nose to nose with many of the most violent men in the shadow world of the streets and in Dreamstation, but with this man, there was something in his eyes that told Creass that he had seen the very worst of life and that Creass barely registered as interesting. It would be best if Creass remained uninteresting to him.

Behind him, Creass sensed more than heard Seeal's change of position. The male Elite's eyes shifted from Creass to look over his shoulder at Seeal. It seemed that this Elite had enough intimidation in him for both of them at once.

"You know who she is?" Emmagan asked, from the right. "_What_ she is?" The hatred in Emmagan's voice was clear to Creass, and he met her gaze finally. Whatever it was that Iketani had done, it was a personal matter to these Elite. He had made the right choice in meeting them, because he suspected now that once they had what they needed that they would leave. He really wasn't all that interesting for them. Good, he would work with that.

"If she uses this station then she is scum," Creass replied simply and honestly. "I don't ask questions, I just provide the station."

Emmagan's eyes narrowed at him, and there he saw her personal opinion of him. He didn't care what Emmagan thought of him, what he cared was that she wouldn't see him as an obstacle.

"She has quarters here still, I would have heard if she had emptied them," he told her. "I haven't entered them because I've heard Elite like to protect what's theirs."

Emmagan's expression didn't shift at his subtle acknowledgement of Elite power.

"She is no longer Elite," Emmagan informed him, confirming what Creass had surmised some time ago. A turned Elite – no wonder they were so angry. Their idolised superiority was in danger of being tarnished. "Take us to her quarters," Emmagan ordered.

No one ordered Creass about, and for a second he considered making that clear, as he would with anyone else. However, the physical intimidation of the scarred male Elite reminded him to keep his head. If the Elite got what they wanted, they would probably just leave.

Creass shifted his attention away from Emmagan, passing over the two unknown men as he did. He paused to study them for a few moments. They were clearly not Elite themselves, or Elite workers, yet their uniforms were vaguely somewhat familiar. The taller man held Creass' gaze with a curiosity that was new somehow.

Creass finally turned his attention back to Emmagan, his small silence enough of a point that this was his station still. "We'll take you to her quarters," he said.

With that, he turned and led them away from the lounge. He caught a glimpse of Seeal as he did, only to discover that she had been stood with her arms crossed, seemingly alert, but hardly concerned or nervous. Typical of her, even angry threatening and armed Elite didn't shake her.

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Teyla followed Creass through the crisscrossing corridors of Dreamstation. There was little light along the corridors, and what there was had been designed to create plenty of shadows wherever you walked in the station. Everything here was designed to allow criminals to sneak and hide as they wished. The station was also clearly designed to cram as many rooms into it as was possible, which resulted in these narrow snaking corridors. Si, who walked behind her, practically filled the corridor, the edges of his shoulders just brushing the walls as he walked. John and Lieutenant Ford walked behind Si, and then Seeal and Oneakka at the rear.

The Elite knew much of Dreamstation, the layout, those who frequented it the most, and most of Creass' history. He had been a small time player on the streets of Rosenthal before he had ended up on too many wanted lists and had escaped out of Alliance territory. He had then set himself up as a middleman between those inside Alliance space and those out of it, building considerable profit and reputation as he did. He had started work on Dreamstation in stages, with it finally being completed and open for business just over ten years ago. Since then he had stayed in one place, running the station as a legitimate business ostensibly a place for people to go to indulge what they wanted – mostly in regards to sex and gambling. In truth, the station was mostly filled with criminals trading between themselves and it was a midway station for smugglers of weapons, technology, drugs, and people. Dreamstation was one of the main stopping points for those needing to get out of Alliance territory, so it had not surprised Teyla that Iketani had spent time here, likely even before she had been found out to be the traitor she was.

Creass turned one last corner and stopped, indicating the doorway down the end of a tiny corridor. A guard stood outside it straightened and Teyla saw the shock in the man's eyes at recognising Elite. The man lowered head slightly, altering his profile, clearly concerned they might recognise him. He was likely a petty thief or something – none of her concern. She would remember his face though. Creass ordered the guard away and the man immediately obeyed, keeping his eyes directed towards the wall with seeming indifference which was clearly actually worry. Teyla watched him pass, and she saw Si take clear note of the man's face as well.

Beyond Si, John and Lieutenant Ford stood calm but alert, the boxy Earth guns held ready in their hands. Beyond them, Oneakka stood in the small junction of corridors, facing Seeal. The woman stood less than a foot shorter than him by Teyla's reckoning, but Seeal was staring at Oneakka with challenge and threat in her eyes and stance. Oneakka watched her in return, eyes narrowed and his body held tense enough to react instantly.

The Elite knew little about Seeal. She was an excellent warrior by most accounts, but ruthless with it and seemed to care about little. The Elite had not even tried to tap her for information, instead they had their few contacts on Dreamstation in the kitchen staff and among the professional prostitutes in the lower levels of the station. No one seemed to know where Seeal was from originally, only that she had entered into Creass' organisation about the same time that Dreamstation had opened. She appeared loyal enough to Creass, but Teyla suspected that the woman's loyalty was not based on anything emotional. Teyla considered the woman now, noting the lines of sleekly toned muscles under her long-sleeved shirt, and it was clear in the way she stood that she was defiantly ready to fight. Oneakka intimidated most people, including Creass despite his attempts to hide it, but it appeared that Seeal was not impressed by Oneakka's skills.

Teyla trusted Oneakka would be able to handle Seeal perfectly well, so Teyla turned her attention back to Iketani' quarters. Si had moved past her, and was scanning the seal of the closed door. Teyla had no doubt that there would be some sort of booby-trap lying in waiting.

"Extra electronic bolt across the lock and I'm detecting some explosive residue," Si reported. Teyla saw Creass clench his jaw slightly. He had been wise not to open Iketani' quarters himself.

"Can you deactivate it?" Creass asked Si.

"Already done," Si replied dismissively, but he continued scanning the door, crouching low to run the sensor pad along the lower line of the door. "Magnetic seal here is weaker. Likely a device. I'm not detecting anything electronic or chemical." He tapped away on the pad. "There is a small current, barely there."

"Another bomb?" John asked quietly from Teyla's right.

"Those are some defences," Lieutenant Ford muttered. His attention was mostly focused on Seeal along with Oneakka.

"Paranoid bitch," Creass uttered distastefully, and Teyla suspected he had spent some time in Iketani' bed.

"I'm getting a life reading from inside as well," Si added, glancing up at Teyla.

"Probably one of her personal slaves," Creass replied though. "She brought two onto the station and acquired a new one whilst here. She only took two off the station with her."

Teyla watched Creass. "You can leave us to this," she said to see what he would say in response.

His shadowed eyes held hers. The limited lighting meant that it was more difficult to read expressions unless you were both close to a light source.

"This is my station," Creass replied simply.

"You want to get your ass blown up that's your business," Oneakka replied from the right where he was continuing his staring match with Seeal.

Si let out a loud breath as he shifted in his crouch by the door, setting two more pads down on the floor. Iketani had to have a way to get back into her quarters if she chose to return, so there would be a way to deactivate whatever was set up in there. Even if Iketani hadn't planned to return immediately, she might in the future. She must have known that Creass would leave it alone until then.

"I need that circuit you built on the ship, Oneakka," Si asked.

Teyla looked back to Oneakka to see him pull a small misshapen box out of his pocket, his eyes still on Seeal. Lieutenant Ford reached out and took it from Oneakka and turned, extending it to Teyla. She took it from him, trusting John to keep an eye on Creass whilst she looked away. She took the cobbled together circuits that looked like it had formally been part of a Vancet door mechanism and a battery pack from a stunner. She moved away down the tiny section of corridor and held out the device to Si. John and Lieutenant Ford would watch Creass as she turned her back, but she still hated doing it. She did not trust Creass, though she sensed that he was only concerned about how they would end this meeting.

As Si set about connecting up Oneakka's circuit, Teyla turned back to look at Creass. He was watching Si with professional, yet wary interest. John stood a foot away in the corridor, his gun held close and noticeably pointed in Creass' direction. John's stance was still and watchful, his eyes on the station owner only. This was the John she had seen before in battle – ready, cautious, and professional.

She looked away as she heard something click from inside the door and Si grunted with what she deemed victory. He scanned the door again and then stood up. Teyla took a few steps back as she pulled out her stunner. She held ready as Si, gun in his own hand, triggered the door open.

The door slid aside without incident.

Si moved in quickly and Teyla followed on his heels. She saw the small box stood just inside, its wires linked up to the inner seal of the doorframe, but she simply stepped over it and followed Si inside the room.

A long thin curtain blocked her view of the room, but Si grasped it and tugged it aside in one sweep. The fabric tore sharply and the curtain fell to the floor. Through the falling material Teyla saw a man sat on the far side of the room, his face pale and stricken. Si advanced towards him demanding he lift his arms, whilst Teyla checked the rest of the room. Surprisingly, ornate furniture was crammed into the small quarters, leaving little space for movement. Iketani would not have been happy with such limited living space.

"Room is clear," Teyla announced as she pulled out a scanning pad of her own. "No signals in here," she added after a quick glance at the empty readings.

Movement at the doorway drew her attention and she saw John was stood just inside, weapon ready, watching her and Si' backs, and that Creass stood in the doorway, frowning down at the box on the floor.

"What's in the box?" John asked warily.

"Likely gas," Si replied. "What is in it?" He demanded loudly of the nervous man sat rigid in the cross hairs of Si's gun.

"I do not know," the man stammered. "Something to send people to sleep."

Si nodded. "Leave it where it is," he instructed John.

"Not a problem," John muttered in reply.

Teyla moved through the tight quarters, squeezing carefully between furniture, scanning for worrying signals or other devices, but there was nothing to suggest Iketani had left anything else behind. "Still nothing," she reported finally and she turned her attention to the slave.

"Who are you?" Si asked him, his voice steady and demanding.

"Th…Thurso," the man stammered back, clearly scared out of his wits. "She is not here, Hon…Honoured Elite."

His accent was Alliance, Teyla believed, likely Litan.

"Where is she?" Si asked Thurso.

"I do not know," Thurso replied immediately. "She did not tell me…she…she told me to leave. She would not take me with her." He sounded upset, his voice shaking and tearful. "I wanted to stay with her, but she told me to go. Why would she leave me behind?" He asked, his voice full of betrayal, confusion and tears.

"What do you know of her activities?" Si asked, seeming annoyed by Thurso' emotional state.

"I…I do not know. She has been angry. I should have served her better, if the Wraith had healed her wounds completely...," he added, his watering eyes lowering to the floor. "I should have served her better."

Teyla moved closer, sudden theories racing through her mind. "Wraith? Is that how she survived her injuries?"

Thurso kept his eyes lowered and nodded. "I did the best I could, Honoured Elite, but the Wraith…"

"It healed her injuries, but not wholly you said?" Teyla demanded. This was worse than she had expected. They had been under the impression that though Iketani had survived, it must mean that she was severely injured. There was no way she could be the same skilful warrior she had once been after those injuries. Except, if a Wraith had given her life…she could be almost as strong as before.

"No, there are still scars…her face. She is still so beautiful," Thurso replied. "Why would she not take me with her when she left?" He asked Teyla, his forlorn eyes meeting hers. "Why did she not want me with her anymore? I served her the best I could. Why did she leave me behind?"

Teyla considered him for a moment, though she felt distaste at his emotional dependency on Iketani, his questions were still valid. Had Iketani left him here for them to find? Or had Iketani not wanted him around her anymore? Had she tired of him as she had so many past lovers?

Annoyed at the unanswered questions and the new knowledge that Iketani had perhaps returned from the dead almost entirely unscathed, Teyla turned away from Thurso.

There had to be something here to help her find Iketani.

She crossed to the single storage area and pulled the doors open, to find it contained only clothes. She quickly worked through them, but found no hidden on the shelves or any concealed panels. She turned her attention to the hanging clothes, which were strangely ornately long dresses, and hardly Iketani' former style.

There had to be something here.

Iketani must have known Creass would leave her quarters alone, suspecting them booby-tapped, so why not simply abandon them? When the Elite had dug through all her things and contacts before, they had found many small hiding places, on many worlds. It made sense that Iketani would like to keep a room on Dreamstation, for it was somewhere she could run to if needed. In her other hiding places, the Elite had found two devices with information, and both of those had been keenly hidden. If she had considered Dreamstation a fallback position or safe house, then there could be something here for her to keep safe and use in the future. Clearly if there was, it was not in the storage space. Aggressive frustration bubbled up inside Teyla as she turned from it, tuning back into Si' conversation with Thurso as she did.

"Where would she go?" Si asked Thurso.

"I do not know, we moved frequently until we reached Dreamstation." The man's voice wavered, as if somehow emotionally broken. Teyla suspected from his words that his intelligence was low and clearly he did not understand why Iketani had told him to leave her service. Teyla felt a renewed anger for Iketani in her use of people, in those who thought her more than she was. Teyla found herself looking across the room to where John stood as she thought that, but she looked quickly away again.

She crossed to the elaborate furniture, prodding through the cushions and then moved on to all the small drawers and cupboards. She found only a hairbrush and some sexual items. She slammed the offending draw shut, rattling the unit.

"Tell me where you have been with her," Si was asking Thurso with growing frustration.

Teyla reached Iketani' overly large bed and scanned it with her pad, and then crouched down beside it and looked underneath. There was nothing. She stood up, but something caught her as wrong. She crouched back down and peered under the bed again. The only thing out of place was a tiny extra shadow on the underside of the mattress. It was likely just part of a supporting slat. She settled down onto the floor, peering further into the low light below the bed, and saw that the extra shadow was part of something hidden up within the slats of the bed.

"There is something here," she reported as she turned onto her back and scooted slowly and cautiously under the bed, sensing pad out in front of her. Nothing worrying was detected, but she remained cautious as the shadow came into view. It was the corner of an electronic pad, which was covered in fabric and secured up on the underside of the mattress. If the corner of the material had not fallen away, Teyla would not have noticed it. Teyla ran her fingers carefully around all the edges of the pad, ensuring there were no surprises, and there were none. Satisfied it was relatively safe, Teyla tore the fabric away and found the clips that held the pad in place, released them carefully and the pad came away easily into her hands.

Teyla scooted back out from under the bed and stood up. She noticed that John had moved further into the room, still turned towards Creass, but closer, presumably to watch over her while she had been under the bed.

She lifted the pad and turned it. "This is new tech," she reported. "Rosenthalian."

She headed back towards Si and handed it to him, knowing he was more skilled in technology such as this. She pulled her stunner out again and stood watch over Thurso as Si worked.

He set the pad on a tabletop and scanned it.

"Why would she leave it here?" Creass asked from the doorway.

Teyla slid her attention back to him. "Perhaps she assumed you would not have found it."

Creass frowned in the direction of the bed and Teyla suspected that she was correct – he, or his people, likely would not have thought to look under the bed that thoroughly, even if they had been able to get round Iketani' booby-traps.

"Heavy encryption," Si reported from the glowing pad.

Teyla frowned down at the pad sat in front of Si, and felt her frustration warring with her control again. The trip here had helped calm her mood considerably, and John's company and humour had been a balm on her nerves, but he had been correct that Iketani was not here. Teyla had suspected as much, but had hoped, just this once, that they might have been ahead of Iketani, except they were not, and, yet again, they were running in Iketani' shadow.

"Mmm, it's a variation of the tricusp Elite code," Si muttered as he tapped away on Iketani' pad.

Teyla frowned at that. "She must know we would be able to break it easily enough," she replied, hearing the frustration edging into her voice.

Si scowled at the pad as he jabbed at it. "Us yes, others; no. It is a collection of lists – all names and numbers. I'm not seeing any further encryption. Her own code perhaps."

Teyla struggled for a moment to regain her patience. The attack had been four hours ago, and by now the High Council would have heard, and be responding to, the news of Garthew's assassination and the near assassination of Charin. Their own members attacked, and Teyla had no doubt that they would be overreacting. The Elite needed to finish this now, stop Iketani and relate the truth to the High Council and Military Council.

Four hours since that living nightmare. Teyla realised that by now Rhakshar would presumably be out of his surgery, if he had survived. She had no way to know. She wondered what was happening back in the Governing Buildings. Was Charin still alright? Teyla hadn't seen her before she had left Athos, and she felt a rush of regret and shame at that fact. Athos would be in upheaval that was for sure, her family affected and their people frightened. Teyla needed to find Iketani – she didn't think she could return to Athos until she had.

Where would Iketani have gone? She had been in Alliance territory earlier today, when she had retrieved her sword from Massa's quarters – truthfully, she could be anywhere by now.

Teyla felt the need to break something.

A faint buzz from the doorway distracted her and she looked round to see Creass pull a small communications device from his pocket, which he showed for all to see and then spoke into it.

A bleep in Teyla's ear explained the cause however – The Sythus had arrived. Teyla listened to Jobrill's voice report they had arrived and requested contact. Teyla lifted her hand to trigger her radio to respond as she looked at Creass.

"Our ship is here," she informed him just before she started talking to the Sythus. "We are here. Iketani has apparently left Dreamstation. We have infiltrated her quarters, but found little, nothing that as yet will lead us to her."

"Understood," Jobrill replied. "Massa has been in contact with the Training Facility. He located how she left the planet once she had retrieved her sword. She boarded a supply ship this morning that was heading out towards the border to the new territories. He is following along the route via the Portals, and will report in when he has learnt more."

"Is anyone joining him?" Teyla asked, though suspected she knew the answer.

"No, he refuses 'assistance'," Jobrill reported.

"How many stops were there along the ship's route?" Teyla asked.

"It's one of the supply runs for the new outlying systems, running out from Aldine, collecting several cargo loads at two moons, then straight out to the Milioc system, and ultimately Lantana," Jobrill replied.

"Milioc?" Si asked, having overheard in his radio. "I saw it listed here," he added as he tapped on the pad. "It is an older file, from one of her older entries, from before Milioc was added to our territory."

Teyla had been watching him tap away on the pad, but when he mentioned Milioc a second time, she noticed Thurso's cheek twitch.

She turned to Thurso, stepping up closer to him. "You have heard of Milioc before now," she told him. "Have you been there with her?"

Thurso looked up at her, nervousness clear in his eyes as he nodded.

"When?" Teyla asked.

"When she was first recovering," Thurso replied, and his voice wavered and then stopped short, as if more words had almost spilled out of his mouth before he stopped talking. Teyla saw him contemplating whether he should say more.

Teyla stepped up closer to him, hoping some intimidation would help loosen his tongue. He shrank back slightly from her, seemingly growing smaller than before. "Why was she there?" Teyla asked.

Thurso licked his lips worriedly. Stood so much closer to him now, Teyla could see his lips were red and dry, as if he had been worryingly on them, and that the lower one was shaking slightly.

"Are you going to kill me?" He asked in barely a whisper.

Teyla almost lied to him, to get what she wanted, but then she would be no better than Iketani in the mistreatment of this man.

"No," Teyla replied. "However, if you do not answer all our questions, your future will likely be an unhappy one." Despite his clear weakness, Thurso had allied himself with a traitor and would still be with her if Iketani had not grown tired of him. Teyla wondered why she had tired of him, for clearly he worshipped her, and Teyla would imagine Iketani enjoying that for the rest of his lifetime.

Thurso looked up at Teyla for a long moment, likely imagining for himself what horrors he thought he may have to live through if he did not do as they asked. Finally he swallowed with difficulty, presumably from a dry mouth and throat, and he nodded. He looked down at his hands, which were blanched pale of blood as he nervously picked at his nails. Teyla saw that his hands were overly dry and that he had clearly been chewing on his nails so much that there was dried blood around them. Had he been sitting here since yesterday, nervous and worrying what he had done to make Iketani not want him anymore, wondering if she would come back and if she might take pity on him and take him back.

Teyla slid her stunner back into its holster and shifted so that she stood sideways on to Thurso, closer to his shoulder, but far less threatening for him. He looked up at her again, his eyes somewhat dim of intelligence, but full to brimming with emotion. Iketani had broken him, and yet he still felt loyalty to her, because like a pet, he had felt wanted and cared for by her perhaps. Teyla felt a further rush of sympathy for him, but she now knew how to gain his cooperation for sure.

"Thurso," she said to him with a calmer voice, making sure she had his full attention. "We are Elite," she reminded him and she saw his gaze shift to the tattoos that ran down one side of her neck. "We work to protect all," she added, and he nodded his agreement immediately. "You have an opportunity to help us," she told him and his eyes met hers again. "Right now, we need to know where Iketani is and you are the one who can assist us. And when we do find her, I will ask her for you why she left you behind."

His expression altered immediately, hope and yet confusion mixing together, bare and painful to watch.

"You must tell us all that you know," she stressed to him, putting strong steady command into her voice, knowing it would work on him.

He looked away, down to the floor, and after a pause, he nodded. He took a breath and, staring off towards where Teyla had scattered some of Iketani' ornate clothes on the floor, Thurso began to talk.

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>TBC<p> 


	25. Milioc

**Chapter 25 - Milioc**

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The sun was bright over Milioc Primary; the colour a sharp yellow that cast across the clear sky and shone down on the dry sandy ground. A faint breeze lifted some of the coarse sand up into the air, grazing it against any bared skin and wearing down anything in its way, gradually, patiently and easily.

Life did grow here, but only in well-kept tended soil or in the protection of the mountains. The many settlements spread across the planet were mainly located near the coastline or in the shadow of the mountains were the soil was at its richest. Most of the planet's wealth came from its sea though, from fish and the thick nutritious weeds that grew along the shore, but technology was as barren here as the sandy soil.

Which was one of the reasons why Iketani had selected this world.

It would be begin to change though, now that the system was within Alliance territory, but Iketani had been using this world for many years. It had been almost seven annual cycles since she had established her bunker here, using it as a storage place for weapons and technology, and a place to work away from the eyes of the Alliance. No one there knew of her involvement on this world, and now she would ensure that would always be the case.

She had been the first Elite face these farming and coastal communities had ever seen; she was practically a Goddess to them in this outlying settlement. There had been no fear of the Alliance's new rule on Milioc Primary, because of her. None of Kolya's fear mongering spies had been seen here, or if they had then they had not been successful. Her presence here over the years had made sure Milioc would lie down and beg for Alliance dominance, and even now, her status dissolved down to dust in the Alliance, here she was the Goddess she had always been.

However, Milioc was now within Alliance territory and no longer a viable place for her to stay; in fact, it was her last stop before she left Alliance territory for good. She would one day return of course, when the time was eventually ripe, when everything was just right for her. Kolya and his associates would work their underground terror work, assisting the weakening Alliance to break apart under its own ill-managed weight, and then, when the pile of rotting mess was ready, she would return with the power she would acquire well beyond the border.

She could be patient; she had always been patient.

Though a bitter threatening anger still seeped into her thoughts of late, she was satisfied enough with the turmoil and damage she had left in her wake as she left Alliance space. Time would pass and she would disappear from Alliance minds, like a ghost slipping away unseen, and they would likely foolishly believe that she had died or dried up somewhere without power or care.

Instead, she would establish far more power than before, far away from Alliance space and thoughts.

The breeze stirred again, lifting the sand around her boots, grazing it up against her exposed cheek and chin. The other side of her face, though protected, was just as uncomfortable, for her cheek sweated under the extra thick layer of her mask. Her skin itched beneath it, but she ignored the sensation. However, deep down inside her, the anger threatened to wrestle free from her cool control before she reined it back in. She was always patient, always in control.

She had lost control of herself at the start of her recovery; she had destroyed a lot of things. Burning anger and frustration at her initially limiting injuries had mixed with the disgust at her own distorted face. Yet, time and the residue affects of the Wraith's life gift had healed up her wounds enough that she was able to function as well as before. However, the scars had remained. The bullet wound scars were hidden beneath concealing powder for now, and a small skin graft was healing over the scar on her shoulder.

Her face, however, was irreparable.

The cut had been extremely deep, having likely damaged her skull with it, but the Wraith's life force had repaired that, but little more of her flesh. The surgeon she had employed had done the best he could without the healing techniques and equipment that would have been available to the Elite. She had screamed her rage at the surgeon at first, but once recovered, she had rewarded him handsomely. So handsomely that he had turned his allegiance from his former employer and was currently setting up a new clinic on one of the planets she would be retiring to, far across the galaxy from Alliance territory. She had chosen its location carefully, needing to ensure the least likelihood of accidental contact with Alliance troops, Wraith, or even those new troublemakers in Atlantis. With Kolya's organisation spread quite widely, she would have enough contacts to serve some of her needs and she had the means to set up the rest for herself.

She smiled in the heat as she thought of Kolya. She had no doubt that he would have left Dreamstation as soon as she had. She wondered if he would try to have her killed now. She almost hoped so, for then she would have something to punish him for the next time she wished to see him. He was a very useful man. His plans were perhaps somewhat foolish, for he truly believed he would one day rule the Genii confederation again. She had no doubt that he had the means and intellect to help disable the already crumbling Alliance, but he would have no chance against the Alliance military's focus if they targeted him, let alone if the Elite knew of him. Kolya's only saving protection was that most in the Alliance didn't know his name or of his involvement in the riots and protests beginning just outside the expanding Alliance territory. The Genii had done an excellent job in convincing everyone that Kolya was dead, and those who knew otherwise were either in his pocket or were silently terrified he would one day return to kill them. He would be most useful to her again in the future.

He had also been an excellent lover. She would miss their sensual dangerous game and his lover's skill. She looked forward to when they would meet again.

For now though, she was almost ready to leave Alliance territory. The bunker was being emptied of everything within it, except the bare minimum to be left behind in case she may one day be in need of it. Slaves worked around her, bringing out packed crates from the bunker and stacking them together, ready to be loaded onto the approaching cart. There were two carts working back and forth down the long road that turned close to the bunker, and the latest cart was currently rolling to a stop. She watched as the slaves began loading it with crates. There was little else to be packed up inside the bunker, which meant that within an hour everything would be out.

She had acquired a shuttle a year ago and, when not using it for small missions, she had kept it hidden here on Milioc Primary. Today it was being loaded with the majority of the bunker's contents, which she would then fly away from Milioc and out of Alliance territory. Anything extra from the bunker that did not fit into the shuttle she would have the slaves taken through the Portal system. She would also send other slaves to her last two smaller secret bunkers elsewhere in Alliance territory, and once they were emptied, everything would be complete. She still had one room in Dreamstation, and another on a mining moon close by, to empty, but slaves could easily accomplish that task. She would instead take the shuttle away from here and be long gone, away from the weak crumbling Alliance and on to her new start, one which she had been carefully planning for some time. She smiled to herself at her cleverness.

The cart had been loaded, the slaves sliding the last crate onto the high-sided wooden bay, and they turned towards her for permission. She nodded her approval and so they climbed up onto the cart themselves, and, with a crack of the reins, the large lumbering beast at the front began pulling the cart forward again. She watched the cart make a wide turn until it was back on the main dust roadway that led away from the settlement sat to the right of the bunker. As the cart rumbled away in the distance, the next one was already approaching, empty and ready to be reloaded.

Pleased that the procedure was going well, Iketani turned her attention away from the road and on to the closest edge of the settlement, where one family's farming houses lined the village. The family there had dedicated themselves to her long ago, their eldest daughter already one of her prized slaves, for many years ago Iketani had saved the entire family from the Wraith during a culling. She had specifically selected them to save, due to the fact that their farming land overlooked the area where she selected to dig her bunker. Killing Wraith was as easy as breathing for her, and when perfectly timed, the skill could be used to gain her almost anything she chose.

The family had served their purpose now though, and she looked away, boredom growing slightly. The empty cart had arrived and was being loaded, so she turned away and moved back toward the open hatch that was the bunker's main entrance. She had twenty-three slaves working for her throughout the bunker, all working to empty every cupboard and leave everything clean and ready for use in the future if needed.

She made her way down the small flight of steps that led into the cool shade of the bunker. Three slaves were closing the last of the weapons crates, hammering the primitive crates closed securely. They all bowed their heads to her.

"The next cart is here, ensure everything is stacked up above for loading," she instructed them as she passed by and they bowed again.

It was likely that most of them would not consider themselves 'slaves', but they had dedicated themselves to her and they did everything she commanded them. A large proportion of them were small time criminals, on wanted lists and lost by themselves, leaving them happy to follow her due to the protection she could provide them. A few more where Elite worshippers, as she called them, and they would do anything for someone with an Elite tattoo. They were the easiest to handle.

She paused to watch two male slaves carrying crates up the steps into the sunlight outside, enjoying the display of male muscle. She had insisted that they did not need to wear shirts in this hot weather.

Amusement satisfied, she turned and walked on, following the main central corridor of the bunker. To the right, she reached the doorway to the kitchen area. Two slaves were packing away the last of the perishable goods, whilst another male slave was wiping clean the cupboards. Iketani moved on, her boots silent on the chiselled stone floor.

A sharp bleep from ahead caught her attention and she quickened her pace. Just as she neared the open doorway to the security room, a slave peered out.

"Mistress, there was a burst of hyperspace energy," she reported.

Iketani brushed past her into the room and leant down over the crowded table of mismatched monitors and electronic pads. She frowned at the readings and pressed some buttons. She was limited in how much she could detect from here, though she had established a sensing station part way up the closest mountainside last year, which had improved things. She triggered the sensor station again, seeking out the signal once more, but, as she had suspected, the reading was gone.

"There are two more expected shipments today," the slave said, looking up from a sheet of paper on a clipboard. "The Alliance is sending in supplies and the military representative."

"When are they due?" Iketani asked.

"No one knew the precise time at the meeting hall, but the next supply vessel was expected to follow soon after the supply ship you arrived on. The second load following close on the first," the slave reported. She was a very capable woman, but somewhat too intelligent for Iketani' to consider keeping her close. Iketani would send her to empty out one of the other bunkers and then would reconsider her position for the future, but for now, she was very useful and competent at her work.

Iketani triggered a full spectrum scan of the surrounding area and stood up tall and straight. It was most likely that the hyperspace reading had been one of the supply ships arriving, but the sensing station had been unable to detect anything other than a brief snapshot of a reading. It was extremely sensitive equipment, but as she had been forced to hide herself and her safe houses, it meant that she was limited in how much she could detect of space above the planet.

"Send someone to the meeting hall to wait for confirmation that it is the supplies vessel," she ordered.

"Yes, Mistress," the woman replied and turned to the small communications station where she set about sending out Iketani' order.

"Inform me as soon as you know anything," Iketani added.

There was nothing to do but wait for confirmation of the ship's identity, so Iketani left the security room and continued down the central corridor. She passed slaves as she did, many of them reporting that the bunker was almost entirely empty. Good.

The door to her own private quarters stood open and Iketani moved through it to find two slaves packing up her clothing for her. They bowed deeply to her as soon as they noticed her and she watched them seal up the last box. She selected which slave she wanted.

"Take those out and help with the transport," she ordered the other one.

"Yes, Mistress," he replied and she saw the faint scowl he sent towards the other man.

She waited for him to move the two crates out into the corridor and then the last two smaller boxes. Iketani watched him, enjoying the display of strength, but once he was out of the door, she triggered it closed.

She turned to the remaining slave. "You have served me well so far," she told him, gracing him with a smile. "You may have a reward."

He smiled as he immediately began unbuttoning the waistband of his trousers, his expression intense and excited. She crossed to the stool by her bed and parted her long skirt to reveal the tight leggings beneath, which she pulled open by the closing that ran between her legs. Cool air of the room met her flesh as she set one foot up on the stool. The slave knew his place and was already on his knees, crawling closer so he that was hunched right beneath her. She parted her legs a little further and he touched his skilful mouth up to her.

Across the small room, she heard the radio activate and a slave report that he was at the local meeting hall.

She closed her eyes and formed in her mind a detailed image of Kolya, putting him in the place of the slave knelt below her, and that the enthusiasm to please her was his and not that of a simple slave. Kolya had resisted her dominance, attempting instead to assert his own over her. She would see him on his knees though, and, on that occasion, she would remain standing over him the entire time.

"More," she ordered, and the slave included his fingers, heightening her pleasure further.

The radio activated again; the next cartful had been successfully stored in the shuttle, though there were concerns as to how much more storage space there was available. She gripped the slave's head and rubbed herself against him, working her pleasure higher and he moaned against her. She eyed the stool and pulled herself from him. She pointed to the stool and he got up from the floor and sat upon it, straining up for her. She lowered herself onto him and rocked harshly.

The next cartload was reported as having reached the shuttle, and there were further complaints about space over the radio.

If the ship that had arrived out of hyperspace had been a supply vessel the local settlement's meeting hall should know soon from the central Milioc Primary meeting hall, and the slave would report in.

The slave under her grunted and all but begged for his release. She instead worked for her own and as it crested through her, burning heat under her mask and flooding her with satisfaction, she gave him permission.

The radio barked out that the next empty cart was at the bunker and loading had begun.

Panting out the last of her release, Iketani stood, closed her leggings and lowered her skirts back into place. She turned and left the room, the slave all but forgotten as she headed along the corridor back towards the main exit. She paused outside the security room and the female slave looked up from the monitors.

"Nothing reported back yet, Mistress," she reported.

Iketani didn't reply or nod, she simply continued towards the light of the exit. The crates from the kitchen were gone as were those previously stacked up just inside the bunker's entrance. She climbed the steps up into the sunlight and found the last of the crates were all neatly stacked up here as she had ordered. Eleven slaves stood out here with her, all working together to load the latest cart. One slave broke away and approached her respectfully.

"Mistress, there is some concern about remaining space for these inside the vessel," he told her quietly.

"Once this load is aboard, if any more remain, they will go through the Portal," she informed him.

"Yes, Mistress," he replied and returned to the loading.

The high sides of the cart allowed many crates to be loaded, but only so many could be risked being stacked inside at any one time. She estimated that this would be the last load that would fit into the shuttle, but she would see. The cart full, three slaves climbed back aboard and steered the beast of burden once more back onto the road out to the shuttle. She would go with the next load, see the shuttle space for herself.

She moved back inside the bunker and retrieved her sword from where she had set it out of the sunlight. She had more than enough weaponry on her at any one time, but her sword meant more to her, and its return to her hand had been most satisfying, especially from under the nose of Massa. He truly had turned out to be such a weak man. It was a shame that such prime male had been so easily broken. She again imagined his impotent rage when he had discovered that she had been in his quarters. She glanced at the timepiece built into her bracelet; she estimated he would have returned to his quarters several hours ago now and would no doubt be in a foul mood to realise that she had bested him. She slid her hand around the hilt of her sword as she settled it into his home at her hip. It felt right to have it there once more.

She climbed back out into the sunlight and saw that the returning cart was approaching; somewhat delayed from all the bitching about space. She stood and watched it approach, fighting boredom once more.

The sun had lost a touch of its heat in the last half hour; the close of the day would only be a few hours away, but she would be long gone by then. The Portal was less than an hour's trek, which meant the remaining crates would be taken through the Portal by cart, and that would be the end of her time on Milioc Primary. It really was the dullest and driest of worlds, though it had served her well, and she would not miss the dry itchy sand and the weakling inhabitants.

The cart had almost reached the bunker, and she found her gaze drawn to the single slave at the reins. Why was there only one? He was sat tall, his spine rigid, and as the cart neared, she could see his eyes were wide.

She watched him carefully, and his eyes found her, close enough now for her to see more of his expression.

"Mistress, careful!" He shouted, but a burst of stun energy engulfed him halfway through warning. As he dropped sideways off the cart to the sand, stunner fire blasted out from the high sides of the cart and immediately two slaves dropped to the sand close by her.

Stunner already in her hand, and shouted instructions pouring from her lips, Iketani returned fire, but there was little to target while the cart protected those concealed inside.

A handful of slaves poured out of the bunker, surrounding her as she reached the shelter of the bunker's entrance. The stunner fire took half of them down immediately, and Iketani' felt a frisson of concern as she registered the pitch of the stunners and the accuracy of the shots…

Pushing a slave in front of her for protection, Iketani peered back out of the entrance to get an improved look at what was going on outside. Stunner fire blasted back and forth through the air between the cart and where her slaves were crouched behind the stacked crates. The cart had stopped, turned sideways on, and she could now see the faint shadows of legs hiding behind the shelter of the cart's wheels. Whoever had been in the cart was now out of it and sheltering behind it. The beast of burden that pulled the cart stood still, clearly uncaring about the stunner fire close by, but Iketani saw thick human legs moving behind the creature. She fired a blast of stunner fire towards the person hiding behind the creature.

Shouting from the right heralded the arrival of more assistance for her; the farmers working close to the settlement had seen that their Goddess was under attack. Good.

"Mistress!" The female slave in the security room shouted down the corridor. "I am detecting two small vessels moving down towards us from orbit."

A slither of concern rose again in Iketani' throat as she moved further into the bunker, leaving two slaves to keep firing out of the entrance.

"Where are they headed?" She demanded of the female slave. Only a few organisations had shuttles – primarily the Military and the Elite.

"There are two of them," the woman repeated and Iketani could hear the fear in her voice, clearly she was not used to dangerous situations; it was another negative mark in Iketani' book at keeping this slave.

The air pressured shifted abruptly and overhead there began a deep rumble, which answered part of Iketani' question. One of the shuttles was flying low over the bunker. A thin layer of rock dust drifted down from the ceiling as the corridor vibrated with the pressure of the ship passing so close overhead.

"I think they are landing," the slave shouted over the rumble that was already lessening, but Iketani had already surmised that herself. "One is touching down at the mountainside exit of the bunker," she shouted, more from shock now for the loud vibration of the shuttle had passed.

Outside Iketani could hear slaves coughing in the rush of sand the vessel had lifted as it had passed. More stunner fire blazed close by, but the angry shouting of the farmers was louder. They had no weapons other than farming implements, but they would slow down Iketani' attackers.

"The other shuttle is moving towards the dunes exit; they are trapping us in," the slave continued. "Mistress…I'm…these are _Elite_ signatures," the woman reported, disbelief clear in her voice.

Iketani bit back the curse on her lips, but it was confirmation of what she had already concluded herself. Only Elite would have found her this quickly and to be attacking so skilfully and directly. In no time, they would stun all the farmers and her slaves, and the bunker's exits, which they would have detected from orbit, were already being blocked.

How had they found her?

One of the slaves in the bunker's entrance let out a cry and slumped forward, stunner fire dancing over him and the step under him. The roar of angry farmers was still loud outside, but far less than before, but it was one single voice that rang out over them that drew Iketani' full attention. Only one Elite male warrior had a voice that deep and full of inherent power. Si was out there.

Iketani turned away from the entrance and scanned the small area around her in hopes that some of the weapons crates had been left inside, possibly containing some grenades, but everything was now outside. Curse the slaves for being so competent.

"There are Elite at the two exits," the slave shouted again from the security room, and Iketani did not miss the change in the woman's voice; she had no doubt worked out that Iketani was no longer in favour with the Elite.

Ignoring all the shouting, stunner fire, and a new automatic weapons sound from outside, Iketani mentally cursed the Elite again. The hyperspace signature must have been an Elite vessel, which meant that either the Sythus or Hastos Son was in orbit.

"Our people are under fire at all exits," the slave continued with her narration of events.

Iketani resisted the urge to punch the stone wall closest to her, but she held onto her patience. She had her way out of here; she just had to time it perfectly.

"I will assist the others at the mountainside exit," the slave added, her voice nervous and panicked beneath projected calm. Iketani caught a glimpse of the slave rushing out of the security room and disappearing down the central corridor. Iketani had no doubt the woman would be surrendering herself as soon as she saw an Elite, probably begging forgiveness for serving Iketani all this time.

It did not matter, for Iketani needed no assistance getting out of the bunker. She was already moving away from the entrance, through which the farmers' cries were already lessening further. A slave tried to follow her away from the entrance, but she ordered him back with a strike to his shoulder. She needed to be alone to make her escape; no one must see where she went. She had relied on another too much before. Getting out of the bunker would be easy, getting off Milioc Primary would be more complicated. The Elite had her shuttle in their hands.

Cursing loudly to herself now she was by herself, she strode along the side corridor, which ran away from the entrance to loop round and to run parallel to the central corridor. The Elite would be able to detect every life sign in this bunker from orbit and by now they would guess that she would be the only one moving around inside. Which was exactly what she wanted them to think.

Shouts and stunner fire faded behind her as she followed the side corridor.

Had it been Creass who had betrayed her? No, he knew nothing of her work here, let alone the details of her bunker. Kolya? Never, he would have slunk away from Dreamstation without being detected by anyone and he too did not know of this bunker. Someone inside the Alliance then, perhaps it was Massa leading them out there. She had been careless perhaps in staying on one ship out of Alliance territory once she had retrieved her sword. Someone must have recognised her somehow along the way. She was not sure how, but it did not change the fact that the Elite were here now. Curse them, but they would not stop her. Once she was out of Alliance territory for good, they would never be able to find her again.

She reached the turn of the corridor and stopped, turning to face the wall. She ran her fingers along the natural fault lines of the stone, seeking out her escape. There had been only one man who had designed this hidden exit for her, and he had selected workers from off world to help dig out her escape. They had not survived the celebratory drinks at completion of the tunnel, and neither had the architect who had designed this exit to it. No one other than her knew of its position and it's secret.

She found the right line of stone and followed it down to where it seemed to pass through the floor. She pressed her fingers in and lifted. With a faint click, she felt the hidden door shift. It took almost all her strength to get the slab of stone moving backwards, but it slowly swung open to reveal the tunnel.

Water dripped down before her, channelled down from above. The secret of her tunnel and how it would help her was one of the unknown secrets of Milioc Primary. This world was so dry because of this very stone – blue stone they called it, for the inhabitants said that it created water itself. Instead, Iketani knew that it was merely a stone that was porous enough to collect water so easily that it drained much of the landscape of Milioc of all rain that fell. It channelled water underground, creating hidden streams and the deep wells that kept the settlements of this planet alive.

However, it had another secret, one known only by a select few – blue stone masked life signals. It was this fault line, where blue stone met a more standard local rock, which had drawn Iketani to this area of the settlement's surrounding landscape. Her bunker sat on the very edge of the blue stone, so that the main bunker had been dug out from the standard rock, whilst this doorway and the tunnel beyond had been dug through blue stone. A tunnel through which her life sign would be completely hidden as she made her escape.

She reached into the tunnel through the open doorway, but did not step through it yet. A small alcove had been cut into the wall of the tunnel, just within arm's reach from the entrance, and in the alcove there was a metal box. She slipped it open with her fingers, feeling moisture had found its way inside. Everything inside the tunnel was slick from the water that was constantly dripping from above, the water cold over her arm as she reached into the box and pulled out two of the small devices from inside. She clipped one to her waist and lifted the other.

Holding the device inside the tunnel, she pressed two buttons on the side, which slid open a tiny panel revealing the trigger. Under the protection of the tunnel's blue stone, she activated the trigger and a small light began to flash on the side. She closed the small panel on the metallic device, its spherical shape warming in her hand as she turned carefully. Back down the tunnel she had come, she could here movement and the absence of any stunner fire. The Elite were doubtless inside the bunker now.

She smiled as she stepped into the tunnel at the same time that she threw the ball out down the corridor. It hit the floor in a rolling tumble and continued on down the sleek floor, away from her.

Pleased, she turned her attention to getting a grip on the blue stone door and pushing it closed. It took a lot of effort, despite its clever design to minimise its weight, and with the slick wetness and some sort of goo that had gathered on the inside of the door, it took her far longer than she liked to get the door closed. But, it had to be closed for her plan to succeed.

As the door slid back into place, it shut out all sound from inside the bunker, even the little that had been bouncing down the corridor towards her. She was now left in complete darkness and silence. Water dripped onto her head and shoulders and her hands were wet with water and the slick goo from the door. She wiped her hands on her thighs absently as she turned away from the door. She reached down to her waist and activated the small light she had clipped to her belt. The glow shone out around her, the light seeming misty as it met the damp environment of the tunnel.

She moved forward through the narrow tunnel as quickly as she could, but the light only illuminated a metre or so ahead of her. All was dark ahead of that and behind her, and the air felt thin and smelt dank.

She pushed on, aware of a strange discomfort at the back of her neck that suggested that the walls were about to cave in on her. Foolish. She kept moving forward as quickly as she could, and eventually the floor began to drop down slightly, or so she thought, for it was difficult to understand where she was without any external reference other than the dark walls close around her.

Water was seeping from the walls as well as from the ceiling of blue stone over her, and it was forming a shallow pool of water at her feet before it seeped down further through the stone. The pool was a few inches deep though, and after a short time she noticed that it was running ahead of her, confirming that she was indeed moving downwards through the stone of Milioc Primary. If she remembered the tunnel architect's plan correctly, the tunnel would have to in order to meet the caves that were it's target. She had only walked through the completed tunnel once with the architect, that strange uncomfortable feeling at being so deep underground having made her uncharacteristically cautious. She guessed it was human nature to fear being buried alive. And she knew what it was like to die.

Her hair and her shoulders were drenched with water now, the water constantly dripping on her from above, and some of it had found its way under her mask. Her skin felt damp and sticky under the mask, but she refused to pull the mask away. Its presence would not win over her control, even if it its removal would make her feel more comfortable.

After an undetermined stretch of time, which likely was not all that long, she felt a change in the air, just a subtle change, but it called out in triumph to her. The air felt cooler, fresher. She smiled to herself as she moved forward faster, splashing her way through the flowing puddles around her feet.

A new sound began to grow in the distance head of her, nothing definite, but enough for her to quicken her pace further. The constant rain falling from the ceiling above obscured much ahead of her, her small source of light misting through it, but she could see that there was more light ahead now. It was dull, but it seemed like natural light. As it grew, so did a new sound, which she recognised as the ocean in the far distance. She was almost to the caves.

The air tasted better now, more so with each step, and she drew it in with a relief she hadn't realised she had sought. Her head felt clearer and the dank smell that had filled the tunnel lifted.

Once she reached the caves, she only had to unmoor the small boat she kept hidden there, and she could head out and along the coast. There was a change of clothes in the boat which would allow her to disguise herself as a local as she rowed her way along the coast to the next settlement. There she would find somewhere to stay, and since she even had an occasional lover there, she would bide her time comfortably. The Elite could not watch the Portal for all the coming days and months. She may have to delay her retreat from Alliance space, but she would still leave soon enough. If needed, she could keep rowing further along the coast, perhaps staying in an entirely unknown settlement would be best. Oh, yes, escape was hers. She was almost there.

The light ahead was increasing, reaching down the tunnel towards her, drawing her onwards. The sound of distant waves increased and the walls of the tunnel began to widen, and, suddenly ahead of her, the wide-open space of the caves filled her view.

An echo of sound vibrated against the walls behind her though and she froze, turning back to look into the heavy gloom.

Had she heard something behind her in the tunnel?

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>TBC<p> 


	26. Diversion

**Chapter 26 – Diversion**

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Two men lay unconscious at the entrance to the bunker, blocking the way inside. Teyla set her feet by the closest and peered down into the entrance as much as she was able, but could see very little. No doubt it had been designed that way.

Behind her, Si was issuing commands to the local peoples who had initially attacked them. They had attacked in a disorganised rush, pitchforks, spades and spears their only weapons, but they had needed to be dealt with, so Teyla had lost time in stunning the fastest of their runners heading towards them across the sandy soil. Another further group of locals had then attacked, far less enthusiastically, from the main road to the settlement. However, at seeing their people stunned easily and at hearing the warning aggressive impacts of the Earth weapons into the ground, they had begun to falter. Si had stood out into full view at that point, all but one of Iketani' servants stunned, and his booming voice had stated who they were and that everyone was to surrender themselves. The locals had instantly responded, all of them sliding to a shocked halt and all of them instantly began putting their weapons down, though clearly confused as to what was going on. At which point, Iketani' last defender had broken out from cover from behind a wall of crates and had rushed at them, his stunner presumably depleted. Oneakka had stepped out and round the cart and dealt with the man with two quick strikes.

Teyla had not paused to see any more for she had finally been able to head directly towards the bunker's entrance, John and Lieutenant Ford close enough behind her. Fiery determination filled Teyla as she ran across the sand towards the entrance through which she had seen Iketani run like the animal she was. Soon this would be over.

However, the unconscious men were still blocking her way inside, so Teyla rocked back on her heels and threw herself up and over them, down the steps into the bunker.

She landed softly, a stunner in each hand, both out ready to fire at any attacker.

None came at her though.

The space just inside the bunker was empty except for another unconscious man who had slumped down from the steps above. Teyla moved on.

In her ear, reports from the other entrances to the bunker were flowing in. Some of the servants had surrendered at one entrance, and one woman in particular was being very cooperative.

"If she is to be believed then most of Iketani' servants are already out of the bunker," Kari reported over the radio.

"We are reading two life signs, other than Elite, inside the bunker," a pilot reported from the central station of the Sythus that was high above in orbit.

"One is ahead of us," Kari replied from where she was moving into the bunker through another entrance. Teyla heard shouting over the radio. "A slave, in hiding," Kari reported easily.

"That leaves one," Oneakka stated from behind Teyla. She had moved on from the bunker's entrance, into a further small room that led off into three corridors.

"This looks uncomfortably familiar," John said quietly by her left shoulder. Teyla had to agree with him, for this was almost exactly the same layout, so far, as Iketani' bunker on Mada.

Trusting she had several men covering her, Teyla slid one of her stunners into a holster and pulled out her sensor pad. The one life sign was moving away far to the left. "This way," she said indicating the left-hand tunnel as she strode forward, stunner up in front of her.

"The locals are subdued," Si reported over the radio in her ear. He would have to remain outside now to watch over them.

Teyla kept her focus forward, moving swiftly, smoothly and silently through the brightly lit corridor. They passed several doors, most of them open. She paused by each, giving John and Oneakka enough time to check inside of each, before she led them forward again. As she waited during those pauses, the sensor pad kept displaying the life sign moving slowly away down the corridor ahead, but also its constant sweep for any explosive chemicals. Teyla did not put it past Iketani to have laid explosives in wait for them, but Elite technology was especially designed to sniff out the majority of such devices. However, if there was an explosive device lying in wait, it would not be too close to Iketani herself, for she would never be one to end her life that way. She would die in battle, for despite her betrayals and traitorous nature, Iketani had been brought up an Elite. Or, Teyla considered, was that simply wishful thinking on her part. She had to confront Iketani herself, to end this, to make sure this time that she was stopped without any doubt.

The life sign on the pad stopped moving.

"I am proceeding towards your direction along the outlying corridor," Jobrill whispered quietly into the radio. She would be heading towards Teyla's group, and between them they would cut off Iketani' escape route. That worried Teyla slightly though – why would Iketani have let herself become so easily cornered? She had to have another way out. The Sythus' sensors had detected the three bunker entrances easily enough, and Thurso's description of the layout of the bunker seemed accurate so far.

The corridor turned sharply to the right ahead and Teyla slowed her pace, shifting to walk closer to the right-hand wall. Iketani' life sign remained in one place still, about twenty metres up the corridor after this turn. Teyla slid closer to the turn of the corridor, the cold of the stone wall against her shoulder seeming to permeate through her clothing. This would be where Iketani would choose to open fire on them.

The corner just a foot away, Teyla stopped and glanced at those with her. Oneakka stood at her side, a gun in each hand, neither of them stunners Teyla couldn't help but notice, and John was just behind them both, his Earth gun held high against his chest. Lieutenant Ford was further away, most of his attention away from them, watching the space behind them. Teyla turned her attention back to Oneakka and John, and she nodded to them. She studied the explosives sweep of the pad again, but saw nothing new, so she reached round to the back of her belt and pulled free the small mirror she always carried. Crouching low, she extended the small mirror on its handle and carefully held it around the corner. The mirror showed a clear view of the corridor around the corner – it was completely empty and it was almost entirely straight. That was not right.

Teyla stood up and strode around the corner, weapon up, Oneakka at her shoulder.

The corridor stretched out ahead of them, empty and silent, but there were doors opening off it. Each of them would be a good point from which to open fire on them. Teyla held herself ready as she moved down the corridor, her eyes moving from each doorway ahead as she went, and down to the sensing pad. Nothing except the life sign. Teyla recalled the box of stunning gas Iketani had left as a booby-trap inside her quarters on Dreamstation. They had not had time to analyse it.

Oneakka moved steadily at her side, his gun stretched out further as his arms were so much longer. Behind her, she heard the soft footfalls of John and Lieutenant Ford following.

Nothing else moved.

Two doors stood open ahead, directly opposite each other across the corridor. Teyla moved closer to one wall, Oneakka moving towards the other. They were too easy a target, but if one of them went down, there would be enough of them to respond in kind.

She moved forward cautiously.

A distant sound caught her attention and she froze, the others with her, and they listened. Teyla wanted to check her sensor pad, but she dared not drop her gaze from the doorways. She lifted the pad, bringing it just into view, but even that was a distraction for when Iketani attacked it would be fast.

The faint noise down the corridor drew her attention again, eyes forward, sliding from the empty corridor, to one open threatening door and then the other.

Behind her, she heard someone move closer, and the scent of John reached her. She saw in her peripheral vision that he was almost at her side, but keeping under the protection of her and Oneakka's guns. She did not look round at him though, but she saw him reaching towards her, reaching for her scanner so that he could read it and she could focus on covering them. The layout of the bunker, from Thurso and from the limited scans available by the Sythus, had been downloaded into the pad, so John would easily be able to interpret it. She nodded as she moved her hand to meet his, his warm fingers against hers as he took the sensor pad from her, and then she returned her full absolute attention to watching the doors.

John moved back slightly, and she sensed him lifting the scanner. She heard the faintest pressure response on the pad as he triggered it. Ahead, the noises of before had stopped; did it mean that there was someone ahead or had something been activated?

John's arm came into view between her and Oneakka and he held up one finger then pointed off to the right ahead of them. Then he held up his other hand, two fingers displayed, which he then thrust forward directly down the corridor, turned his hand and pulled it back towards him. There was one signal just ahead to the right and two other signals moving together towards them. Teyla nodded her understanding and moved forward cautiously. The two headed towards them would be Jobrill and Kari. The sounds ahead down the corridor may likely have been them. The corridor was straight and no doubt soon Jobrill and Kari would come into view, which meant that Iketani was in a room off to the right.

Oneakka stepped ahead, gun pointed directly into the open doorway to the right side of the corridor and Teyla stepped up close to the side of the doorway and quickly peered inside. It was a small room and, from here, she could already see the far wall. Iketani was not in here. To be sure, Teyla stepped inside cautiously, running her eyes over everything, looking for any booby-traps as well as for any possible hiding or escape panels. However, the room was simply a storage space, all the shelves noticeably empty. She detected the scent of cleaning fluid in the air – Iketani had literally been clearing house. They had likely arrived just been in time, a few hours later and she may have been gone.

Teyla stepped back out of the room and shook her head, moving on down the corridor.

Two shapes appeared in the far distance, and Jobrill lifted a hand in acknowledgement. They were still some distance away, but the corridor being straight here they were easy to see now. Teyla glanced at John to see him looking up from her pad in his hand. He was frowning as he lifting one finger again and pointed ahead, slightly to the right.

Teyla moved forward, Oneakka slightly ahead of her this time, his impatience showing. Perhaps he, like her, sensed that something was wrong here. This was not right. If Iketani had allowed herself to be trapped like this, it would be for a good reason, or her last stand, which, for an Elite, was always dramatic.

Jobrill and Kari were moving closer, checking rooms as they went, all empty as well. There was one room left on Teyla's right between their two groups, which meant that this was the only place for Iketani to be. Teyla waved Kari and Jobrill faster towards them, just before she and Oneakka moved swiftly into the new room.

It was empty.

Teyla turned quickly, stunner ahead of her, but even the corner of the room behind the door was empty. It was a bunkroom, with several thin mattresses on low basic beds set out along the wall. The sheets were gone and the small shelves by each bed were all empty. Oneakka lifted the mattresses to check under the beds, as Teyla kept moving round the room, checking for hiding spaces behind the walls or anything worrying.

"Out here," John called quietly from the doorway. Teyla thoughts she heard defeat and concern in his voice.

She moved quickly to the doorway to see him moving ahead, and down the corridor Jobrill was stooped down, scanning a small metal ball resting against the right wall of the corridor. Teyla held still, watching Jobrill worriedly – was it an explosive device?

Jobrill shook her head as she reached down to the metal ball, pressed something on its side and a light, that had been blinking, turned off. Teyla saw the life sign die away on the sensor pad's screen in John's hand.

Iketani had fooled them.

"She was here," Oneakka stated angrily, but his voice still low. "I saw her inside the bunker's entrance."

"Then there is somewhere in the bunker which masks life signs," Jobrill replied logically.

"Check every room, every corner, and every cupboard" Kari ordered over her radio. "I want all assistance in this bunker now." She turned away and with Jobrill they began their search of the rooms again.

Teyla drew in a breath to calm herself.

Oneakka turned away, heading back towards the rooms behind them to check them more thoroughly. He kicked the wall as he went to unleash some of his frustration.

John had moved ahead of Teyla and now reached down and picked up the metal ball that Iketani had left behind to fool them into following its false life sign. Teyla held in the words she wanted to vent, pressing down the growing anger and frustration. Iketani just kept running, kept slipping through their grasp.

"This is wet," John observed, drawing her attention back to him.

"What?" Teyla asked.

John moved towards her, the bright overhead lighting making his dark hair and uniform all the more apparent. "This thing, it's…gooey," he reported, a half smile on his face though he was being serious.

It was a strange observation, but valid, so Teyla reached out for the small metal ball. He was correct. There was a thin layer of something wet on one side of the device, something organic that clung to it.

"There is a faint trail of water here," Oneakka reported from further back along the corridor.

"And here," Lieutenant Ford added from further down the corridor, and he moved away, following the faint shine of moisture back down the corridor.

Teyla followed them, quickening her steps, hope growing once more.

"It's moving straight this way," Lieutenant Ford reported.

As she followed, Teyla dropped her gaze to the ball in her hand. There were tiny scratches in a straight line down one side, right through some of the slime.

"She rolled it," Teyla reported with realisation.

"This is the first spot," Lieutenant Ford reported from up ahead. He stood close to a doorway, but beyond there was nothing but the turn of the corridor.

Teyla and Oneakka reached him, both turning and considering the path the device had rolled down the corridor from where they stood. The first place the ball had touched was obvious because there was more water and a tiny puddle of the slime. Oneakka crouched down by it, scanning it with his pad.

"She threw it," Teyla considered, "and then it rolled the rest of the way."

"But from where?" John asked as he moved past her.

"Maybe she never went further down this corridor," Lieutenant Ford suggested. "She came round the corner, threw the ball thingy, concealed her life sign at the same moment and turned back."

Teyla considered that; it was valid. However, it meant that Iketani could be anywhere in the bunker now. It was more likely that she had some secret concealed way out that they had missed. It could be in any room of the bunker.

"It's a basic plant form," Oneakka reported from over the puddle on the floor. "But the water," he added as looked up at her, "is salt water."

Teyla frowned at that. "Salt water?"

"This kind of plant life lives on rocks on coastlines," Oneakka reported, "According to the pad," he added, seemingly to make it clear that he had no personal knowledge of plant forms. Teyla almost smiled.

"Sea water," she concluded.

"Like this?" John asked and they all turned. He was crouched down by the far wall of the corridor where it turned off towards the main entrance. Teyla hurried towards him. "It's only a few drips, but where could it have come from?" John asked as he touched his fingers to several tiny puddles of water that were right up against the stone wall. He lifted his fingers and rubbed them together. "Slimy, like on the ball," he reported. It was enough for Teyla.

"There is a hidden space here," she declared moving right up to the wall, looking up at the ceiling and then down the wall. There were natural fault lines of rock, but nothing obvious. She crouched down beside John and they both began running their hands along the wall. "The wall is wet," Teyla realised feeling the faint moisture that was splattered down the wall, as if rain had fallen on it. How had she missed that before?

"There's a strange energy reading here," Oneakka reported where he stood over them, sensing pad facing the wall. "Odd lack of readings close to the wall."

"You think it masks life readings?" Lieutenant Ford asked.

Teyla was busy running her fingers along the wall where it met the floor, whilst John was trailing his fingers along a fault line further up the wall.

"It's dry on this side of this line," John reported, his hand pressed to the wall. Teyla followed the line of rock down the wall to where it met the floor and ran her fingers along the join. Her fingertips found a tiny space.

"There is something here," she reported, hearing the victory in her voice. She squeezed her fingertips further into the tiny space where the fault line met the floor and felt a catch. She tried pressing it in, but nothing happened, so she tried lifting it. Something clicked from inside the wall itself.

"Careful," John warned, his hand on her arm, pulling her back slightly.

Teyla was already moving back though, her stunner back in her dominant hand, raised ready as she stood up. However, the wall of stone remained solidly in place.

Next to her, John set one of his boots against the wet part of the wall, and it clearly moved. Oneakka, on her other side, reached out and added his strength, and between them, John and Oneakka carefully pushed open the door to reveal a dark tunnel beyond.

Iketani' escape.

Water was dripping down through the open space of the rock cut tunnel, almost as if it was lightly raining inside. The damp musty smell of an old enclosed space met her nose and Teyla resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at it. What was clear was that there was no light source of any kind inside the tunnel, so she pulled out her handlight, triggered it on, and angled it low across the stone floor inside the tunnel. Nothing moved except the falling water, so she stepped forward into the tunnel.

Behind her, Oneakka was reporting their discovery to the others over the radio and a shuttle was already lifting off to head out to the closest area of coastline that this tunnel presumably led. They still had time to catch Iketani, for surely she could not be too far ahead of them.

The small handlight barely cut into the thick darkness of the tunnel ahead, and every one of Teyla's instincts told her it was not a good idea to walk into territory for which she had no map, no true light, and where a deadly enemy lay in wait for her. But then, she was an Elite and she never walked away from any threat.

She moved forward, casting her light down across the tunnel's waterlogged ground and moved forward. In the slime at her feet, Teyla could just about make out a boot print. Iketani had definitely come this way. Teyla's target was almost within reach.

Iketani was not getting away from her this time.

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The tunnel was slick with slime around John as he followed Oneakka's back through the dark narrow space. Heavy fat droplets of water fell constantly from the stone ceiling above them, and the strange rain had quickly soaked through John's hair. He worked to ignore the cold rivulets of water that ran down over his face, into his ears and down the back of his collar. The barrel of his P90 was slick with water as well, so much that the water was dripping down its sides onto his bare hands and it had snuck its way down into his sleeves. He kept his eyes forward though, moving carefully and cautiously down this seemingly endless dark tunnel.

He still had Teyla's scanner pad, which he held up in front of him against the P90, though he would have preferred an Ancient scanner in its place. He wondered if Lorne had not packed it in his tac vest for the trip to the Athosian fair, or if he had been using it when all hell had kicked off with the attack. For now John only had the Alliance pad and he couldn't understand the symbols it displayed, though the mixed fuzzy lines across the top half of the screen was presumably the Alliance equivalent of static. Whatever it was about this tunnel, it was playing havoc with the scanners. However, there was a handy app built into the pad, which though it couldn't predict details of the tunnel ahead, it was mapping out the route they had taken. The map was gradually building up in the bottom part of the screen and John had found that by pressing a flashing square to one size, the map would shift to show the map in a horizontal view, confirming, as he had suspected, that the tunnel was now heading downhill. Another tap of the helpful blinking square and the map shrunk down to reveal where they were in relation to the bunker behind them. He couldn't understand the symbols running down one side of that display, but he didn't worry too much though because the life sign signals earlier had been clear enough to understand – a blue flashing dot – a universal language that would make Hollywood movie producers happy. However, in this tunnel, the pad couldn't even pick up the life signs of Teyla and Oneakka right in front of him, or Ford behind him, as they moved in the necessary single file through the tight corridor cut through the rock.

A big droplet of water hit the pad's already wet screen blurring the image, but with a quick swipe of his thumb, the screen was clear again. John shifted his gaze forward as he did, trying to listen, watch the pad, and keep close tabs on Oneakka and Teyla ahead of him. He couldn't see much around Oneakka, but then there wasn't a lot to see. The only light source they had through the pitch black tunnel were their small flashlights – the Elite's being of a soft blue glow, which lit up the uneven floor of the tunnel ahead. John angled his P90 flashlight towards the wall, down and to the side of Oneakka's right side. The danger was that even though they needed the light to see trouble ahead, at the same time it would clearly give away their position to Iketani. Added to that problem was the fact that they could only move so quietly through the watery tunnel, and though they were moving at a smooth quick pace, they couldn't help the occasion small splashes through the puddles that littered the ground.

Something altered on the scanner pad, and John dropped his eyes to it. One of the formally fuzzy lines began to display some sort of reading and some Alliance symbols appeared next to it. John was about to ask Oneakka, whose head was lowered over his own pad, but Teyla abruptly stopped, one hand held up and out. They all slid to a halt, and John lifted his P90 higher against his shoulder. He held his breath, listening intently and watching Teyla's shoulder just visible past Oneakka's, and instantly he heard what was new.

It sounded like…the ocean?

"Waves?" Ford whispered quietly.

John nodded, exaggerating the movement so it would be clear to Ford through the faint light.

Teyla pointed forward again, but this time their pace was faster. John hurried after them, catching up quickly, though struggling to move so quickly and silently through the puddles.

As they moved forward, John registered a change to the dank air of the tunnel. With another breath, John caught the scent of fresher cleaner air breaking through the heavy musty smell of the tunnel. Ahead of the Elite, John could also see a faint lessening of the tunnel's gloom – there was natural light ahead.

Teyla abruptly shut off her flashlight, Oneakka too, so John copied, switching the P90's light off as Ford did the same behind him.

They kept moving through the complete darkness without the flashlights, but John's eyes quickly began to adjust and he could clearly see the new light ahead now.

Teyla and Oneakka slowed their fast hunters' pace because they had to be thinking the same as John – the exit from the tunnel would be the perfect place for Iketani to launch an ambush on them. However, there was only one way out of this tunnel, and even if Iketani had left them a 'gift' on the way out, they had to keep going because she was probably making her escape right now.

The light grew stronger ahead of them, shining off the watery walls and through the misty damp air. The outline of the exit suddenly took shape into a rough widening square of light with the sense of open space ahead of them. John felt a rush of relief at seeing it, at knowing that they were almost out of the claustrophobic damp hole they had been running through. Trouble was only just starting though surely.

Teyla slowed her pace enough more and as the tunnel widened towards the exit, she moved further towards the left wall, whilst Oneakka stuck closer to the right. John kept to the left a pace behind and to the right of Teyla, covering more of the centre of the tunnel, with Ford beside him.

The four of them slowed further, edging forward as the light reached out, surrounding them now, tempting them just to rush out of the tunnel and into the open space John could now clearly see. It looked like a large cave, from the limited view he had. He could see blue stone arches beyond a watery pool, moss clinging to everything and the sound of crashing waves was echoing from the distant end of the cave. The cave would be at the coastline, so presumably Iketani had a boat or had a route out along the coast away from the settlement and the Elite.

Teyla froze, one hand up high.

The group froze with her.

She pointed down and to the right, where the puddles deepened several feet just inside the exit of the tunnel.

John kept most of his attention forward, directly out of the tunnel, but he shifted his gaze down in the direction she was indicating. He frowned back out to the cave and glanced down again.

The top of a large peddle was sticking out of a puddle against the right wall, but as Oneakka edged towards it, John realised what it must be. Oneakka didn't seem worried though, he simply pulled out a long shiny device, like a ballpoint pen, pointed it down at the likely landmine and something tiny clicked.

Oneakka straightened. John saw him look slightly towards Teyla, only something abruptly moved in the tunnel's exit.

Movement low to the ground, swinging round into view from just outside the tunnel.

A hand.

And something small and metallic leaving the hand, arching upwards towards them inside the tunnel.

"Back," Teyla shouted, her palm filling John's view as he scooted back, arm out grabbing part of Ford's sleeve to pull him back.

Moving backwards, John watched in slow motion as the metal device reached the peak of its arc and began to tumble down towards the stone floor.

In that split second of motion, John saw another metallic shine enter the tunnel, but saw that Teyla and Oneakka were moving forward out towards the tunnel's exit, the first device now impacting down between them and John and Ford.

Perhaps Teyla or Oneakka shouted something, but John realised what it was that was now touching down on the stone floor less than a metre ahead of him.

"Flash-bang!" John shouted as he dropped down onto one knee, letting go of his P90 and slammed his hands over his ears as he did what was not natural in a battle zone – he shut his eyes.

The flash-bang went off with a vibration that thrust John back and his butt hit the ground with a sharp lace of pain through his left hip. He kept his hands against his ears though, his fingers digging into his skull as he fell back, feeling Ford falling beside him. Heat washed over them and John turned onto his side, keeping his eyes tightly shut.

A new burning, smoky smell suddenly rushed into John's lungs, filling and smothering.

Rain pattered down over him from above, the water pooling over his closed eyes.

The world was ringing around John, the world fuzzy and watery as he opened his eyes.

Smoke filled the air, mixing weirdly with the water dripping down from above.

John's senses snapped back together, though the ringing continued slightly, but he could tell what was up and what was down. Blinking water from his eyelashes, he rolled up from the floor, P90 back in his hands, and he resisted the urge to cough against the smoke.

The smoke was already lessening, possibly because of the water falling in the tunnel, and it allowed John to pull in a proper breath of air. Ford's muttered curse to the right, confirmed to John that he was okay, but most of John's attention was forward. In the entrance to the tunnel, through the falling water and the drifting smoke, John could see fast movement. Teyla stumbled past the exit as if shoved back, stunner energy dancing over her body, but she got one boot planted and was launching herself back towards the right. John saw her pause, saw her eyes widen and suddenly another metallic shine arced through the air.

"Crap!" John heard himself utter as he saw the all too familiar shape headed towards Teyla.

She ducked aside, into the tunnel towards him, heading down towards the rough rock floor with just her bare hands and stunner to cushion her fall, but John didn't have time or the capability to help her. He could warn Ford though.

"Flash-bang!" He shouted, dropping the P90 again, slamming his hands over his ears and bracing himself better this time for the pressure wave given out by these Alliance versions of flash-bangs.

He only just got his eyes shut in time.

The rush of air hit him again, flapping his soaked through collar against his neck, adding sharp cold against his skin as the blast of heat followed a second afterwards. The ringing squeezed between his fingers and penetrated into his ears again, and though he held his breath, he caught the scent of smoke again.

As soon as the pressure lessened, John had his P90 back in his hands and launched himself forward.

Smoke filled the air ahead, less inside the tunnel this time, but it concealed almost all of his view of the cave outside.

Teyla didn't need his help though; she was already getting up, fierce anger twisting her features as she rushed out into the smoke.

John bit back the order he wanted to shout at her to wait for his and Ford's backup. With that thought, John risked a glance to his right, but could see Ford at his side, coughing slightly and looking as frazzled as John felt.

They reached the exit to the tunnel and now John could see Teyla stood in the lessening smoke, arm raised and firing her stunner off to the right.

John stepped out into the cave, turning to sight along the P90 in the direction Teyla was shooting, but all he could see was thick smoke. He couldn't risk firing because where was Oneakka?

Only then, John saw where Oneakka was.

He was slumped against the wall outside the tunnel to John's right, blood dripping from his chin, a knife in his shoulder and he was clearly unconscious.

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>TBC<p> 


	27. Trap

**Note:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I have been unable to thank you all individually as something is wrong with the links on the site to allow me to. However, be sure that I appreciated every one of them. Thanks guys :)

**Chapter 27 – Trap**

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The shallow pool of water reflected the high arched roof of the cave above it and the moss that clung to the soaked ceiling. A fat droplet of water dripped down and away from the moss and fell in a long straight fall down towards the pool. The sound of it's impact was lost against the distant crash of low tide outside the outward facing cave, but even the tiny droplet hitting still water echoed in Iketani' ears as she strained her hearing for those approaching.

She was certain now that her escape had been discovered. And they were close.

She had had time to lay a small explosive device, but there had been barely anywhere to conceal it. Nevertheless, it was in place and could be useful.

What was not useful to her was the boat. It would take her many long minutes to unmoor it and push it out on its ramp to the ocean and no doubt an Elite shuttle would be patrolling the coastline now that the tunnel had been discovered. She could not even risk swimming out, not only because of the danger of rocks and swimming through the breaking waves, but the Elite would easily detect her life sign in the water. No, the best place for her to be was in the caves for now. Most of the large caves along this coastline were of blue stone, so she was still undetectable, and even the Elite would be unable to enter the caves via the ocean. Her only means of escape then was to follow the caves along the coastline, which was possible for some distance, and then find a bolthole or an opportunity to escape up onto land and get away.

However, a problem remained. Blue stone concealed life signs, but only within a metre's distance. To remain undetected through the caves she would have to stay close to the walls, and from here that would mean she would be completely visible to her pursers as she moved through the caves. Therefore, she would have to deal with them first and then make her escape through the caves.

Which was why she remained here now, still and silent, back pressed to the blue stone wall just outside the exit to the tunnel.

She strained her hearing, her eyes closed to help focus her attention on the minute sounds from the tunnel.

They were moving slowly and carefully. She could make out three different footfalls at least, and she was reasonably certain that two of the pursers were male. They made barely a sound, but the tunnel concentrated the touch of boots to stone floor and puddle.

The sounds shifted and stopped.

At her side, Iketani prepared what she would need. She had the element of surprise on her side here and she knew well how to use it. Though she had had no time to reach the boat further across the cave, she had been able to find the box hidden in a chiselled out hole close to the tunnel's entrance. From inside she had pulled out several stun grenades, and she held one now, her thumb poised over the activator.

A crunch of stones and movement of water told her that her pursuers were moving again – almost to the exit.

Taking calming deep breaths, Iketani focused her warrior's mind, and all the sounds seemed to grow in her awareness as she did so. Another large droplet of water fell in front of her to land on the darkened blue ground close to her boots, and she watched the droplet roll away down the tiny slope to a waiting shallow pool of water.

The pursuers stopped just inside the tunnel and Iketani crouched and turned, her body coiling ready to act. Had they found the explosive device? It was likely they had for it was of Elite design and they would easily know how to deactivate it.

She heard a shift of boots to the left side of the tunnel, moving towards where the explosive device sat. Iketani tensed, turning slightly, moving as silently as possible.

Whoever was closest stopped and, after a moment, Iketani heard the explosive device deactivate.

In one sweeping motion, she dipped and swung her arm down low to the ground, her thumb triggering the stun grenade, and she threw it into the tunnel, quickly flowed by a second.

She heard the shouted responses, but she did not stop to process whose voices they were, for she pulled out two knives and rushed into the entrance, meeting the attack of the first Elite.

It was Oneakka, which was fortunate, for it would be important for her to eliminate him first. He was too destructive and unpredictable and had to be dealt with swiftly.

Having had surprise on her side, Iketani' attack did catch him somewhat unawares and he was unable to block her sweeping strike to his gun holding hand. His gun clattered away across stone, but he struck at her with his other weapon, using the heavy butt of the gun as a hammer towards her head.

She ducked away from the angry fast attack, swung round and up with one knife. He twisted his body and literally threw himself at her, so that all of his heavy muscular weight hit her through his shoulder.

Her breath was knocked from her, but she managed to bury one knife into his shoulder, using her grip on it to slow her fall and attempt to get her feet under her.

His arms surrounded her though in a vice like grip as he continued their slow crashing fall to the stone floor.

She twisted, his roar of anger loud in her ear, the furious sound penetrating even through her protective earplugs. He was angrier than she had ever seen him, which amused her intensely, for a split second before he all but crushed her under him as they finally hit the cold damp ground.

He had made his mistake though, for with his arms around her, he was assuming that she would be trapped.

A dark shape appeared in the thick smoke over Oneakka's back and Iketani saw a female form moving towards them.

Knowing she had barely any time to react, Iketani released the handle of the knife buried in Oneakka's shoulder and shoved up at Oneakka's chin, lifting him up a few inches, but enough for her to shift under his weight and put his head between her and the approaching Elite warrior. With some space, Iketani forced her other elbow up in the tiny space and cracked it across Oneakka's unscarred cheek.

He barely reacted, but did pull back to pull one of his hands out from under her. Iketani moved faster, for her arm was still swinging through from her elbow strike, and as she twisted under him, forcing her shoulder up against his chest, her fingers caught the rough shape of a broke piece of blue stone that had fallen from the wall. She swung it up and round and struck Oneakka forcefully across one temple.

The strike had caught him at just the right moment and it carried his weight off her. She did not pause, for the other Elite was almost upon her. Under the cover of Oneakka's slumping form, Iketani caught up her other knife, which had fallen between her and Oneakka, and threw it towards the looming Elite shape. The blade sliced through the smoky air up towards the outline of the female warrior. In the moments after releasing the knife, Iketani reached down and pulled out her own stunner. She fired immediately at the Elite whilst she kicked away Oneakka's unconscious form.

The Elite shifted her position just in time to avoid the knife, but Oneakka's legs, kicked away by Iketani, caught her, and the Elite stumbled back, almost slipping on the wet ground. She was mostly a shadowy smoking shape to Iketani still, but as the bolt of stunner energy lanced through the air and wrapped itself around the Elite, she was revealed.

Emmagan.

A bright excited thrill joined the rushing urging adrenaline through Iketani' system.

However, as the stunner energy danced over Emmagan, its travel fizzled over her ineffectually, and Iketani realised that the shot would not work. It seemed that the Elite had altered their stunner defusing technology so that it worked against even Elite stunners. Iketani fired again to see if a second bolt would overwhelm whatever new technology it was, while she also reached down to her waist and unclipped a second stun grenade. She threw it at Emmagan, as she got her hands and boots on the wet blue stone under her and forced herself up.

Just as she began to run, the grenade activated and the pressure wave pushed at Iketani' back, propelling her further forward.

Emmagan would recover in seconds and it was possible that the Elite stunner she had been holding was also more advanced than Iketani'. Iketani needed distance to prepare to meet Emmagan, and whoever else had accompanied her and Oneakka down the tunnel.

Splashing through a small pool, the push of heated air subsiding with distance, Iketani heard the stunner shots. Ducking one way and then the other, she ran faster. With the thick smoke at her back and her knowledge of the caves, she had an advantage over them still and she would use it.

There was a huge arch in the wall of the cave ahead, which allowed access through to the next cave, which had the same shimmer of blue stone and clinging moss filling Iketani' view as she leapt out of a pool of water and up through the entrance to the next cave.

Keeping close to the wall, she slipped into the next cave, splashed through two more pools and reached the next hole eroded through a wall of blue stone, and climbed up and into the next cave, water dripping down on her as she ran.

There were no further stun shots at her back, and she heard a male coughing against the smoke from back at the tunnel's entrance. She had time to get further away and prepare her next ambush.

She would find a way to leave these caves alive, one way or another, but that did not mean that Emmagan would. Smiling with anticipation at the hunt and manipulation she had yet to play upon her nemesis, Iketani moved further into the blue and moss lined caves.

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The smoke was dissipating through the cave's moist but fresh sea air as John stood solidly, P90 high and ready as he watched as much of the far right side of the cave as he could. Behind him, Ford was applying dressings to the unconscious Oneakka's head and shoulder. Teyla had sprayed something into the shoulder wound after she had pulled out the blade. It looked like a deep wound, but the knife hadn't been long enough to go right through the thick muscle of Oneakka's shoulder. There was still the possibility of long-term nerve damage, but for now it looked like the stab wound had missed any vital blood vessels, and Teyla and Ford's first aid would keep things stable. That was until Oneakka woke up angry, which perhaps was quite some time considering the dark head wound across the guy's left temple. Teyla seemed to think it was mostly superficial, but John was cautious about head wounds. They bled like crazy, but the real damage was what had happened inside the guy's thick skull.

It surprised John how worried he felt for Oneakka, and how even more angry he felt towards Iketani. But that kind of emotionally led thinking wasn't going to help. They needed to keep a calm head and not freak out that Iketani had taken down Oneakka all by herself. He needed to think of it as just another reminder just how fast and deadly the Elite were…and that one of them was perhaps lying in wait for them out in the next cave.

Soft movement beside him heralded Teyla's arrival at his side.

"How is he?" John asked.

"He will recover easily enough," Teyla replied. Her voice was that low boiling angry tone again, but then John could hardly blame her right now. With the flash-bangs and the smoke and super quick fight between Oneakka and Iketani, Teyla hadn't been able to help, and John just knew that fact was eating at her. It was eating at him too, despite knowing that he couldn't have done anything else, but he still wished he could have helped Oneakka.

"What now?" John asked quietly.

"We leave him and follow her," Teyla replied, her stunner held ready as she too kept her eyes on the far exit of the cave through which Iketani had apparently run. "We can not let her get away from us."

"What about backup?" John asked.

"We are alone for now," Teyla replied. "She will make her way through the caves, and it is likely there will be at least one way she can climb up and out and make her escape." Teyla frowned down at her scanner. "The stone is still interfering with the readings." She dropped the pad into her coat pocket with an annoyed frown. "The shuttles will watch the coastline, but she could make her escape up another tunnel away from the coast."

"Don't we need more support to track her?" Ford asked as he joined them.

"They will send support after sufficient time has passed, until then we are alone," Teyla replied as she glanced back at Oneakka. "And we are losing time," she added. "We must not let her get away."

John couldn't argue with that point, but after seeing Oneakka laid out in seconds, he wasn't feeling as confident as he should. However, they were all there was to stop Iketani right now, so there really wasn't any other way, and he sure as hell wasn't going to wait back at the tunnel's entrance while Teyla went in alone to get the madwoman.

"Okay," John agreed, but Teyla was already leading them forward.

John following, Ford at his side, but before they left the ground by the tunnel's entrance, John glanced back and down to where Oneakka lay. Ford and Teyla had settled him in the recovery position, head wound uppermost, and his cheek pillowed on Ford's jacket. John didn't like leaving a man behind without cover, but then it wasn't likely that Iketani would swing back this way. She was all about escaping, and they had to get to her, because she had slipped out of their reach far too many times. If she got away this time, then it was likely that she wasn't going to be back in Alliance territory. She'd be focusing on worlds well beyond the Alliance's reach, and that would likely put her in Atlantis and her allies' neck of the galaxy. Right now, Iketani was everyone's problem.

Moving quietly towards the open archway that opened through to another cave, John got a good view through it into the watery cave beyond. It looked like there was a series of these interlinked caves, a honeycomb of eroded spaces from where the ocean, still audible over everything, had once been higher. Now the water in here came from the ceiling and the walls, which all seemed to be leaking water, which had pooled down into large puddles across the cave floors. Between the pools, there were higher ridges of ground, along which the now three-member team moved.

As the ridge neared the archway, John shifted sideways, splashing quietly through one large puddle, so that he covered the left flank, while Teyla held the centre, and Ford the right. Together they slowed and edged closer to the archway that was a likely ambush site.

They stopped and Teyla held up a hand and then dropped it, and the three of them moved swiftly forward together towards the archway, covering as many angles as possible.

John reached the archway, peering through it, P90 covering everywhere he looked, while Ford did the same at the other side of the archway. Nothing moved, so Teyla strode through the natural doorway and into the next cave. John and Ford followed, again keeping apart and watching as much as they could.

There was nothing in here but water and the sound of distant ocean waves.

They moved onward, all of them sweeping their gaze around the cathedral high cave around them. Occasionally a large fat droplet of water would fall from the ceiling high above and impact in a pool, creating single soft sounds, and forming rings of movement in the water.

They made it across the narrow cave and reached another archway cut into the wall, and beyond another cave stretched. They performed the same procedure of checking the archway and entered the next cave smoothly and efficiently.

"Crap," John whispered.

There were at least three exits from here to other caves. Iketani could have gone any way. This place could be like a honeycomb.

They held still, while Teyla pulled out her scanner and frowned at it again. Clearly it wasn't going to help still so John looked away and kept up his cautious vigil. There were far too many open arches through which Iketani could attack from, or simply have run away through.

"The sensor pad is still not picking up her life sign," Teyla reported quietly, her voice barely a whisper, but it seemed loud in the large damp space. "However, I am now picking up our own life signs, so perhaps the interference is only limited to close proximity to the stone walls."

That was possibly useful, but it wasn't likely that Iketani was going to helpfully stand out in the middle of a cave away from the stone walls and wait for them.

"We will have to split up to find her," Teyla announced, voicing what they all knew.

"Because that is always a good choice in the movies," John muttered.

"She will slip away from us too easily if we remain together," Teyla replied. "Lieutenant Ford if you take the rightmost cave, John the centre one ahead. I will take the left cave. I may be able to contact the shuttle or Sythus closer to the ocean. Move slowly and cautiously, and do not engage her without calling for assistance."

John reluctantly nodded his agreement and they slowly moved away from each other.

John's target cave was directly ahead, so he moved forward easily, following a ridge of ground that ran right up to the small breaks in the wall that was the entrance to his cave. Just before he reached it, John glanced each way, seeing that Teyla had already disappeared into her cave, but Ford had yet to reach his. John waited a beat, and saw Ford look back. They nodded to each other and John moved forward. He had to focus on his own survival right now and not worry about Teyla or Ford. They had their own training and he trusted they could look after themselves. Sure, against Iketani, sure.

With a calming breath, index finger close to the P90 trigger, John reached the archway to his cave and quickly glanced inside one way and the other, leading with the P90's barrel.

Nothing to be seen in here either, just water and moss.

John moved into the cave cautiously. The water was deeper in here, but mostly contained into two low dips in the floor, so he followed the dry edge around to the left, which kept his back to a solid wall and gave him a measure of security. He tracked through the cave, making sure to move quietly and he listened closely for any little sound that echoed through the stone space.

The cave extended onwards ahead, so John followed it's slightly tunnel like path, which led to a wide exit at the end. The walls narrowed here, and John moved more carefully, his back towards one wall, and he checked his six regularly. He tried to keep well away from treading near any large peddles or in the puddles, remembering Iketani' little mine left back at the exit to the tunnel.

After far too much time, which likely had been quite short, John neared the exit to his cave tunnel. Water was running down the walls, a steady tiny flow that made John feel like he was walking between two waterfalls. There was sunlight reaching into the cave ahead though, and John kept close to the wet wall as he peered in, P90 leading the way.

The cave was as massive as the first one, but this cave's floor was at a lower level and water covered all of it. John stood at the side of his entrance, sweeping his view up and round. There was less moss here he noticed immediately and there was a stronger smell of seawater. To the far left, he could see pale daylight sliding in through broken eroded pieces of stone. The stone was paler in here, and there was far fewer droplets of water falling from above.

John kept his sweep going, hoping to catch a glimpse of Teyla to the far left near the sunlight, but it remained stubbornly human free. He scanned across the water filling the cave floor, the sunlight at such an angle that the water looked dark and deep. John considered his options and there weren't many. Carefully, he lowered one boot out of the entrance to step down into the cave and into the water. He moved carefully, waiting and hoping his boot would meet the cave floor at any moment. It did. The water reached mid shin, and was quickly soaking into his pants. Great.

Carefully, he stepped forward through the water, keeping most of his attention to the right, since that was the only exit from this cave. Teyla would presumably be searching all the caves to the left, so it would be best for him to go right, maybe even meet up with Ford in that direction.

John moved swiftly through the water, but cautiously in case the floor suddenly dropped out from under him.

He had made it about two thirds of the way through the cave when he heard the shout and rapid beats of P90 fire.

John froze, P90 held higher, eyes fixed on the exit ahead of him through which he was certain the gunfire had come. Silence followed.

Ford.

John moved quickly forward now, running as fast as he safely could through the deeper water. As he did, he reached up and activated his radio on the off chance that it had started working again. However, there was still nothing but static in his ear.

"Ford," he whispered into it just in case. "Ford!"

Only white noise came back again. Whatever it was in these damn walls it was playing havoc with any equipment.

John finally reached the cave exit ahead of him and moved through it quickly. It was a low tunnel space, which looked as if one side of it had collapsed in. John hurried quickly through, making sure to check behind all the fallen debris through, and at least he had stepped up out of the water to get in here. His boots and lower pant legs felt heavy and cold as he moved.

There were two ways out of the tunnel, and John checked out one exit, but saw nothing but rocks and moss, so tried the other. Where was Teyla? Had she heard the gunfire? He couldn't risk calling out to her, or to Ford, because it would give away his position. So he continued on quickly, damning the fact that he hadn't heard any more gunfire since the first barrage.

All but running now, John moved through another low cave, splashing through ankle deep water, and came upon another archway. Only this one looked out on another massive cave. And across the vast stretch of dark water, John could see Ford lying on a patch of high ground. Even from here, John could see that Ford was unconscious and that he was soaked through.

Clutching his P90 tighter, John made himself keep calm and in control, taking the time to look around all of the cave. The water was darker here, and there was barely any natural light getting in, except from in the far distance from which John thought he could hear the ocean again.

The cave looked empty apart from Ford.

John suspected it wasn't, but he couldn't see Iketani and he had to check on Ford. He didn't have much choice, but to walk into danger. It was possible that Teyla hadn't even heard the gunfire, or was she on her way from another direction, he had no way of knowing. He was on his own until then.

Moving carefully, he stepped down into the cave.

The floor was high around the side of the cave, but already John could see that the water was far deeper in here. There was hardly any moss across the walls here, and the water was clearly leaching in from the walls, but not dripping from the ceiling here. There was a string scent of something close to seaweed, and as John stepped further into the water, he saw the long plants dancing in the water. As he moved further forward, the cave floor just kept getting lower and the water deeper with it.

With a couple of strides, still keeping as close to the cave wall as he could as he made his way towards Ford, the water gradually inched up over his knees. It was warmer water at least and occasionally one of the seaweed like plants brushed against his leg. Each time it happened, it triggered an adrenaline rush through John's system and made him paranoid that Iketani was underwater and ready to stab him through. He cursed the fact that he didn't have an Ancient scanner with him. Not that it was a guarantee that it would have worked any better in here than the Alliance scanner did, but he would still have liked to have had one with him.

Moving in a sideways route round in Ford's direction, the water now mid thigh, John's pants were almost entirely soaked through and his shoulders were aching from tension. He worked to relax himself, aware that he perhaps hadn't been quite this nervous in a combat situation in a long time. It was stupid really, because surely going up against a Wraith Queen was more terrifying than Iketani.

The water threatened to cover John's side arm and he paused. He would prefer not risking getting the thing soaked through, but he didn't really have much choice other than wade deeper into a likely deadly trap. Where was Teyla when he needed her?

He edged forward, only a few yards away from Ford now, but the water was now groin deep and that didn't make him feel any more comfortable.

He watched the surface of the water around him carefully, desperately trying not to play the Jaws theme tune in his head. He couldn't watch all directions at once though, and his own presence was disturbing the water.

He was a metre away from Ford now and the floor began to rise slightly.

John stopped and held still, letting the water settle around him somewhat. He really wanted to turn on the P90 flashlight, but he might as well wrap himself up in Christmas lights to give away his position if he did.

Carefully, he reached out with one hand and touched Ford's shoulder and shook the younger man gently.

Ford remained worryingly still and silent.

John moved slightly closer to the dry ridge on which Ford was far too suspiciously lying. John risked glancing away from the cave to quickly look over Ford, but there was no obvious sign of injury. He reached out again and set his hand on Ford's chest, and was relieved to feel some movement. He was alive, thank God. But, he clearly wasn't conscious. John tried another shake, but Ford remained unresponsive.

A sudden movement behind John was his only warning.

There was a rush of sound as something launched up out of the water towards his back.

John began to turn to face the attack, bringing the P90 round, but a wet body was suddenly against his back, arms sliding around him, too close for him to fire on, and then the cold press of wet metal against his throat.

"Do NOT move," Iketani threatened into his ear, her breath cold against his skin, and he felt the sharp edge of the knife press against the soft vulnerable part of his throat beside his windpipe. She could cut his throat in a second.

He held very still and tried not to breathe too heavily.

"Let go of the weapon," she ordered him.

John took a moment too long to think about it and the knife bit in and pain, sharp and breath stealing, made him immediately obey her. He let go of the P90 and its weight dropped to lie against his front.

The knife eased a fraction against his flesh and he felt the warm presence of blood on his skin. He held very still.

"Stay very still," Iketani told him, "If you move I will end your life with the flick of my wrist. Understand?"

John moved his head faintly in a nod, not daring to risk talking with the blade so close to his throat.

Iketani moved slightly, though her body remained pressed almost intimately against his back. He felt her non-knife wielding hand slide down his front and he felt her finger the clasp of the P90. It took her a second to work out how to release it. The weapon dropped away into the water.

Her hand slid lower to the front of his belt.

John didn't need to see her face to know that she was getting some pleasure out of disarming him this way, and he felt sick at the thought.

"I suggest you make sure that no part of you moves, remember my warning," she whispered with a clear smile in her voice.

The belt undone, she slid her hand around his waist to the small of his back, squeezing her hand between their bodies, and she pulled his knife out of its sheath. She pulled back slightly from him, his knife likely disappearing into her own belt, as she stepped around him allowing his belt to fall from his waist, except for where his holster held his side arm against his leg. She tugged the side arm out of its holster, all the time keeping her knife against his throat with disturbing skill. Now he was disarmed, she moved back behind him and pressed her self right up against him again.

"With one hand release the holster from your leg," she ordered. "I wouldn't want there to be anything 'useful' hidden away in there."

Carefully, John reached down with his right hand, moving very slowly. He had to dip down to reach his thigh, and Iketani allowed him to move that much, but the knife remained solidly in place. John tugged the velcro straps free, and the holster loosened and drifted away in the water.

"Very good," Iketani breathed into his ear as he straightened, his hands up in full view. "You are _very_ good at taking orders; I can see why she kept you around. Or are there even more interesting skills that you have?"

Clearly, Iketani had recognised him. John wondered if that was why he was still alive.

"Now turn slowly round," she instructed, pushing her self against his right shoulder.

He obeyed slowly, and, as he turned, he was able to run his eyes over Ford again. Ford had also been disarmed of his P90, and if he still had his side arm still, John couldn't see because Ford was on his right side. There was no help there.

Iketani kept pushing on his right shoulder until John had completely turned and so that his back was to Ford and he was facing out across the dark cave towards the archway through which he had entered. He would have asked Iketani where she had been hiding, what her plans were, whatever he could to distract the villain and help delay things until got Teyla here, but Iketani kept the knife frightening pressed across his throat. She knew what she was doing and John had to respect the skill.

"Now, let us see how important you are to Emmagan," Iketani whispered in his ear.

She shifted against him and suddenly there was a barrage of loud 9mm fire up into the cave around them. John just barely managed not to flinch forward against the sharp blade. Iketani emptied the weapon into the air, which was presumably Ford's weapon and not his because his had been soaked through and unlikely to fire more than one shot without being cleaned. The loud gunshots echoed against through the cave and died away. Iketani shifted behind him again, pulling away slightly and then there was another barrage of gunfire, Ford's P90 presumably. The sound was almost deafening this close to it. Teyla would have heard that and picked up on the direction by now, surely.

Anger gripped John through his professionalism and self-preservation. Iketani had done to him what she had done to Ford – made him bait. John was Iketani' bait to get Teyla.

There were only two ways Teyla was going to be able to enter this cave and Iketani had both of them covered with the P90 and whatever else she was armed with.

Ringing silence filled the cave, almost painful to John's ears after the gunfire. Iketani' breathing so close to his ear seemed loud, as did his own, and John couldn't help but notice that the ex-Elite was breathing faster. Was she nervous? Excited?

He swallowed carefully, seeing how much movement he might have to talk with, but the knife tip edged against his adam's apple in warning. He decided to keep quiet for now.

There was the faintest sound of movement from the cave entrance across the deep pool.

"Emmagan!" Iketani shouted abruptly, further traumatising John's hearing for the day. "I have your slave here. If you would like to keep him, and I can see why you would, you had better show your face."

The knife pressed closer and John's breath caught as he pulled his neck back away from it as much as he could.

"NOW, Emmagan!" Iketani hollered.

00000  
>TBC<p> 


	28. Battle

**Chapter 28 – Battle**

0000

"Emmagan! I have your slave here. If you would like to keep him, and I can see why you would, you had better show your face," Iketani' voice echoed loud, taunting, and determined through from the next cave.

Anger was boiling up through Teyla again, threatening her level head and forming foolish plans in her mind, such as the urge to step into the entrance to the cave and fire blindly at Iketani. It was a foolish plan, based solely on emotion and could possibly get her, John and Lieutenant Ford killed within minutes.

So instead, Teyla focused herself on her training, breathed steadily, and stubbornly forced her mind to focus on more a more useful tactic.

She crouched low and edged her tiny mirror around the stone eroded side of the archway that led to the cave in which Iketani stood waiting for her. Teyla kept the mirror angled carefully, preventing any light catching upon it, and keeping it as concealed as possible.

In its reflection, she could see the wide watery cave, the outline of John in the distance, Iketani wrapped around behind him, and the wet shine of metal against John's throat. Teyla re-angled the mirror, scanning the rest of the cave as best she could with the tiny mirror. There appeared to be only a single area of higher dry ground, which Iketani had her back to, and upon it there lay the still form of Lieutenant Ford. It was possible that he was already dead, but if not then Iketani essentially had two hostages to use.

"NOW, Emmagan!" Iketani shouted angrily.

Teyla pulled back and set her back against the stone wall again. The pressing solid presence of her sheathed swords protected her back from the cold damp stone, but her swords were no use to her across a cave from her enemy. Only her guns would help, and Iketani was using John as a body shield. From the little Teyla had been able to see in the mirror, Iketani was well protected behind John's wide tall shoulders.

"I WILL kill him," Iketani threatened again.

Teyla was running out of time. It was very possible that Iketani would simply slaughter John, just as she had tried to do to Teyla's family.

"I am here," Teyla replied loudly, forcing her voice to be level and calm. She did not move from her position though, for if she were to show even an inch of herself to Iketani she would be killed. She had no doubt that Iketani, an ex-Elite, could kill her with a single shot of the Earth projectile weapons. Teyla had no defence against them.

"Show yourself," Iketani demanded, though her tone was its more usual mocking character now, and it grated harshly against Teyla's control. The disgusting creature had sent assassins to kill her family, and now held a friend at knifepoint.

Teyla closed her eyes, knowing that her intense emotional reaction was likely just what Iketani wanted to provoke, as John had suggested not too long ago. It was possible that Iketani' aim was to force her to act irrationally thereby providing the traitor an opportunity to kill her. Teyla had no doubt that Iketani wanted her dead – it had been clear in the woman's tone. Teyla had heard the same tone many times before, though usually used by Wraith. How ironic.

That realisation focused Teyla's thoughts somewhat and her usual calm began to return. Iketani _was_ like a Wraith – she wanted Teyla's life and to perhaps gleefully enjoy terrorising her beforehand. Teyla had dealt with thousands of Wraith and had killed more Wraith Queens than any recorded Elite since the days of Sythus and Hastos. Iketani' plan would not work on her – she would not allow it to. Turning again, she set the mirror down against a pebble at the edge of the entrance, wedging it carefully in place so that she could see John and Iketani as clearly as possible.

"Do you think me foolish, Traitor?" Teyla shouted, her own voice echoing through the cave beyond. The mirror in place, she leant back further away from the entrance in case Iketani saw the glimmer of the mirror and fired upon it.

"Then I will kill your slave," Iketani shouted back.

"And lose your shield?" Teyla asked, putting mocking laughter in her voice. "I will kill you instantly." And that was the truth of their situation, Iketani had John and Lieutenant Ford, but she could do nothing else as yet. Teyla had the advantage of her guns, but Iketani had John's life.

"I believe I will instead sit and wait for the others to join me," Teyla called back. "You know well enough how we would capture you."

"Then I will slit this man's throat, just to spite you," Iketani replied with deadly promise in her voice. Teyla also heard the hatred, and it caused a spasm of fear through her. Her mind traitorously produced the horrific imagined image of how easily Iketani could take John's life, how his blood would rush from his throat far too fast for Teyla to do anything to save him. Or even to allow her time to reach him in time, to be there as he…

She drew a sharp breath, drawing her control back together.

"Just as I did your family, Emmagan," Iketani added. "I am curious, were you there when they died?"

Teyla clenched her teeth tightly and the handle of her stunner bit sharply into her hand for her grip was far too tight.

"Your attempt failed, Iketani," Teyla shouted with delighted pleasure. "My family live and your assassins are all captured or dead."

Silence was Teyla's answer and she focused her attention down on the tiny mirror's reflection, but could not see enough detail. She had wanted to see Iketani' reaction when she told the Traitor how she had failed.

"I stopped them myself," Teyla added. "Then I went to Dreamstation and went through your possessions you left there."

Further silence was all that came back, so she pushed. The truth was that back up was likely still some time away, for even if the others had begun to follow the tunnel, they would still take too long to find her and this cave to be of assistance.

And Teyla wanted to deal personally with Iketani. She would not escape this time.

"Thurso in particular was very helpful," Teyla added.

"A weakling," Iketani replied instantly.

"A weakling who brought you back to life," Teyla reminded her, curious at Iketani' reaction.

"Life from a Wraith brought me back, Emmagan," Iketani replied, "As my plan had always intended."

"Yes," Teyla called back, "and now your betrayal as an Elite is complete – killing innocents and hiding behind others as you make your escape. You are as weak and conniving as a Wraith Queen." It was the most damning accusation anyone could give, let alone to an Elite, and Teyla was curious as to how Iketani would respond to it.

"At least I am not naive," Iketani replied angrily and there was the sound of water moving. Teyla leant down closer to the mirror. "Innocents you say? You are foolish indeed, Emmagan. There are forces at work inside and out of the Alliance that will rip it apart in no time. Where will the Elite be then? How will worlds be protected from the Wraith?"

Teyla frowned. "Do not pretend to me that you have any high ideals behind your traitorous actions," she shouted more aggressively than she intended. "You are no better than Wraith, perhaps worse, for at least they behave on instinct, you are simply deluded."

Teyla watched the reflection closely and saw that, as she had hoped, Iketani was moving towards the entrance at which she hid. Iketani had a tight grip on John and the knife at his throat remained tight to his skin. But they were moving towards Teyla. If she was to break this stalemate, then she needed to be in the same cave as Iketani and to have some sort of superior advantage. Currently, she had none other than being concealed, and clearly Iketani was shifting across the cave with John in an attempt to find a line of sight with which to fire at her. Teyla kept her back pressed to the stone wall beside the cave entrance though, well out of sight, for now.

"You are the deluded one, Emmagan," Iketani shouted back, anger blazing in her voice now. "You are so stupidly idealistic. You fight Wraith and do nothing else, you are an empty creature, a weapon of the High Council, going where they send you, throwing yourself into battle and you already know, Emmagan, that soon you will be killed. Likely alone, surrounded only by the fallen remains of the latest batch of Wraith the Queen who will kill you will easily replace. I will not live as you do as a sacrificial offering to the blind stupidity of the Alliance. The Alliance is crumbling and your family will die along with everyone else when the Wraith return."

Teyla could not help the natural worried reaction she felt at what Iketani suggested, perhaps far too truthful for Teyla to deny entirely.

"The Elite are the point of a weapon that is already broken, and I will not remain in the Alliance to be destroyed along with you all," Iketani continued.

The sound of her and John's progress through the water could be heard swirling around her words, and Teyla watched them edge out of the mirror's reflection. Teyla adjusted the mirror to follow their progress. They were closer, but that was still of no real help to Teyla.

Teyla again considered just shooting the stunner out into the cave towards them, the stunner would take John down, but revealing Iketani to Teyla. However, Iketani would predict that technique, one the Elite used immediately when Wraith occasionally took hostages. Iketani would likely kill John as he went down, just to spite Teyla if nothing else, and she had an Earth weapon targeted in the entrance Teyla would step into. The risk was too high. Teyla needed to alter the situation so that she could fight Iketani close up, not at such a distance with John between them.

"Is this what you wanted to tell me, Iketani?" Teyla called, trying another tactic. "For clearly you waited for me to arrive here. Is this a declaration of your motives to excuse your despicable behaviour? Are you feeling guilty for what you have done?"

"Stop here," Iketani ordered John quietly and Teyla heard him murmur slightly in pain. "Show yourself, Emmagan, or this slave of yours will not be the last to die at my hand because of you."

Teyla could see Iketani more clearly in the mirror now that she and John were closer, though still only half the distance across the cave. Iketani' normally light blonde hair was dull, likely wet from the water, and was slicked back against her head, but otherwise her entire body was concealed behind John. It was only the shine of the pale mask over one side of her face that enabled Teyla to pick her out from the darkness of John's shoulder. Teyla judged the distance again, assessing how accurately she could shoot from here, could she send a knife into Iketani' forehead over John's shoulder? Again though, the angles and timing were all too risky and she would still have to reveal too much of herself to fire or throw a small blade.

Teyla watched their reflection in silence, keeping her eyes fixed on the little she could see of Iketani' forehead and arm around John, the knife shimmering in the dark where it pressed against his throat. Teyla did not look at his face though; she kept her eyes on her enemy. She could not be distracted.

"No more taunting words, Emmagan?" Iketani asked, breaking the silence. "No more delays until you decide whether you want this man to live?"

Quiet returned for a few moments, only for Iketani to chuckle quietly, the sound echoing around her in the cave. "Who is the weakling now, Emmagan? Do you really care so little for anyone else?"

Teyla bit the inside of her lip so as not to respond to that, or to ask how Iketani, of all people, could use that argument. She who used and discarded people like bared bones.

"Perhaps it is that you are afraid of me?" Iketani suggested with amusement. "Do you remember the feel of my blade piercing your back? How I almost killed you? Does it haunt you still?"

"I never think of it," Teyla lied. "How does your face feel these days?"

Iketani laughed deeply at that. "Yes, we have both taken a piece of the other. Do you not want the chance to retaliate against me? Do you not want to punish me for almost killing your father, your sister, and the weakling elderly one you think of as family? Did my assassins at least draw some blood? I hope so. I would have preferred to have seen it myself."

"But you did not," Teyla replied sternly, "I believe you were too afraid to face me directly. You instead you have snuck through the shadows, like a Wraith, and sent out men to do your work for you."

Teyla took a breath and steeled her resolve.

"It is because you know that I have always been the superior warrior. Perhaps your hatred for me is more to do with my skills and success, Iketani. How many markings have you personally won? Two is it not?"

"Five," Iketani replied immediately.

"If so then only you believe it. You were never that skilled an Elite. Perhaps that was why you turned to Wraith like behaviour to win over others."

"I am as skilled a warrior as any Elite," Iketani protested.

"You are no Elite anymore, Traitor," Teyla replied. "And every time you look in a mirror, you remember how I won over you, how I took your beauty and how weak you truly were to stab a warrior in her back as we fought Wraith."

"Stupidly idealistic again, Emmagan. Thinking that being skilled with a sword makes you superior to everyone else."

"Clearly superior to you," Teyla baited. "Why have you not run away by now, Iketani? That is your way, is it not? To run and hide, behind bought drug peddlers and gangsters. Trading your body for their protection. You are not strong enough to fight me face to face. You are not worthy of my time."

Teyla picked up the mirror, her heart racing far too quickly, as she stood. She made sure to move her feet heavily as she moved away from the entrance, splashing through a puddle loudly as she did.

"Who is running now, Emmagan?" Iketani shouted, water sloshing around her as she no doubt shoved John through the water so she could aim through the entrance as Teyla retreated. "Are _you_ now running like a Wraith?"

"We will smoke you out, all of us Elite," Teyla replied as she walked backwards away from the cave entrance. "The Elite will stay here on this world until we hunt you down. I may not stay to watch though for I have far more important enemies to face. More honourable, more powerful, and more dangerous than you."

"Get back here, Emmagan!" Iketani shouted. "Show yourself, you weakling."

Teyla reached the end of the short tight tunnel like cave that led away from the watery one in which Iketani still held John. Teyla hoped she had chosen the right action, though there was little else she felt she could do other than this risky plan.

"I will kill your slave!" Iketani shouted louder.

"He is not my slave, Iketani. He is a warrior of Atlantis, and to kill him will turn far more eyes upon you than simply those of the Alliance and the Elite," Teyla called. "I have more important things to do than hunt you down. We have you trapped here, you have nowhere to go."

"I will escape and when I do, I will spend all of my time ensuring that the next time I strike, that your weak family _will_ be killed," Iketani responded, her voice wild. "I will make you pay for what you did to me!"

Success raced through Teyla's veins as she slid out of the tunnel, but fear also threatened to tremble through her. Would Iketani kill John out of spite now? She hopefully would remember that she still needed him as a body shield, but was escape her true plan? Teyla suspected otherwise, that Iketani had a personal vendetta against her and that the grudge would not be settled now by running. Teyla was risking John's life on that belief though, for it Iketani was to run now, she might simply kill John and leave his body behind as she found another way out of the cave system.

Teyla had no way to know for sure, she could only follow through with her plan and pray that John's life was safe for now.

And if she was wrong, Teyla was not sure if she could forgive herself the outcome.

00000

"Don't you walk away from me!" Iketani screamed across the cave towards the clearly empty cave opening from where Teyla's voice had formally drifted.

John held as still as he could, the knife blade as tight against his skin as it had always been, though behind him he could feel Iketani practically vibrating with anger.

"Emmagan, get back here!"

A pebble some distance away skidded aside. "You do not have the courage to face me in true battle, Iketani," Teyla's voice echoed from further away, the level growing fainter as if she was walking with her back to them, moving still further away with each step.

Rationally, John understood what she was doing, thought Iketani probably did as well, but that did not stop the fear he felt. Teyla had essentially just walked away. Left him behind with a crazy woman with a knife to his throat.

Never leave a man behind, suddenly had an even deeper meaning for him.

Silence filled the cave around him and Iketani, and there were no further crunches of stone under Teyla's retreating boots, no more challenges and nothing else to be done, but wait to see what Iketani would do.

She was breathing heavily against his shoulder and he felt the smooth brush of her mask against his collar as she moved her head. He heard her almost growl with anger. She had to know it was a trap, of course it was, but then would she really fall for it? How angry was she with Teyla?

"Move forward," Iketani ordered aggressively into John's ear as she simultaneously pushed against his side.

Once again, John carefully moved forward, stepping through drifting alien seaweed under the water's surface, a knife at his throat and the empty cave opening ahead of him. He kept his hands up in front of him, as Iketani had ordered him, but he moved slowly, subtly testing her weight against him. She was only slightly shorter than him, but she clearly knew how to use her height to her advantage. She had one elbow wedged into his back, keeping only half her body against his, thereby leaving her space to react if he tried something. If only he could be sure what something to try.

His best bet would be if she wanted him to climb out of the water and into the next cave ahead to go after Teyla. Then she would have to let go of him. She couldn't hold the knife against his bruised stinging throat while they climbed up and out of the cave.

She tugged on his shoulder though, pulling him to another abrupt stop and he obeyed. However, as he did, he made sure his weight was primarily on his front foot so that he could quickly shift backwards from the knife if he got the chance.

Complete silence returned, the water calming around them. They now stood considerably closer to the cave entrance where Teyla had been, and had a clear view down through the next cave's length. Teyla wasn't anywhere in sight. John could practically feel Iketani' indecision and confusion against his back. Was she really going to follow Teyla?

Something moved in the corner of his eye, a flash of colour and movement from the other small forgotten entrance into the massive cave. Iketani reacted immediately, turning as quick as a snake, her arm that was wedged against his back swinging up and round, holding the large dull shape of Ford's P90.

John had his moment and he went for it. With her attention shifted, he threw his weight back against her, dipping his chin to protect his neck as much as possible as he grasped her knife wielding hand and wrist with both his hands, pulling and twisting with all his might.

By throwing his weight back, he had also knocked her off her shots, which hammering up and away into the stone wall, the sound oppressive so close to him.

Iketani had expected his move though, and brought one of her knees in and against the back of his supporting knee as she squeezed him between her shoulder and her knife and twisted sharply.

Her simple move pulled his weight too far back and, as she twisted, he felt himself falling sideways off her body, the knife moving with him. He wrenched at her wrist and hand as he began to fall, finally pushing the knife away from his throat, but then the slamming weight of the butt of Ford's stolen P90 impacted against his left temple.

He hit the water, dumped aside by Iketani, and the salty water rushed up into his nose, threatening to smother him instantly. Dazed by the hit of the P90, he was only aware of seaweed tangling up in his face and of his own air escaping in giant bubbles around his eyes. Then his knees and outstretched hand hit the cave floor, and the jarring impact seemed to snap some sense into him once more.

Instinct kicked in and he quickly pushed up and away from the bottom, thrusting himself up the short distance to the water's surface, desperate for oxygen. He knew that he was taking a risk rising to the surface so close to where Iketani had been, but he had water rushing into his lungs and was fast running out of time.

He breached the water's surface in a desperate rush, spitting out water, and began retching immediately. The water poured from his throat and nose, enabling him finally to gasp in a lungful of wet air. It felt gloriously good and snapped his focus further together, and he was already turning towards what he registered as commotion not too far away.

Iketani was all but screaming in anger, the P90 hammering bullets into the water around her, fortunately mostly away from his direction. In that moment, John's brain processed what he had seen earlier. The sliding dark shape of Teyla diving into the waist deep water from the other cave entrance. It had been risky, she could have cracked her head open on the stone floor, and now Iketani was firing blinding into the water, seconds away from killing Teyla.

John threw himself at Iketani' turned back. He moved slower than he expected, probably due to the amount of water saturating his uniform and the fact that he was still somewhat stunned from the rattle she had given him with the butt of the P90. However, he had an advantage over her now and he had to get the gun up and away from her before she shot Teyla.

As Iketani had done to him previously, John rushed at her from behind. He would have wrapped his arm around her throat to control her, but he saw the glint of light against the knife still in her hand. Years of military experience noted its presence and he altered his attack without thought. He slammed himself against her back, knocking her balance whilst he simultaneously grabbed at both her arms.

He got a decent grip on her wrist that held the P90, probably because it was closer to her body to handle the weight of the weapon, but he only got a partial grip of her wet sleeve on the knife arm.

Iketani understood this with just as quick experience and she instantly threw her head back towards his. He just about avoided the would-be backwards head butt, but she was devilishly strong. He squeezed her wrist forcefully and the P90 dropped from her grasp, but she retaliated by pulling her hand towards her body, twisting as she did and her elbow slammed back into his ribs. Pain lanced up his side, stealing his breath again and his already traumatised lungs protested. Coughing with pain, he still kept a tight grip on her, but his wet hands were slipping as he tried to pin her arms against her.

Her hand was at her waist and he felt the sharp tug as she began to unsheathe her freaky Klingon style sword. He tried to get a tighter grip on her, squeezing her arms inward, preventing her from fully pulling the sword from its scabbard, but she was dipping her other shoulder and he felt his weight lifting, threatening to be thrown.

Teyla burst out of the water at his side, shocking him as much as it did Iketani.

Teyla's hand shot up and towards Iketani' sword drawing hand, striking so sharply that Iketani let out a short of primitive angry shock, and the sword was suddenly ripped out of her hand and the last part of its scabbard and it sailed away, falling down into the dark water ahead of them.

Iketani didn't protest her sword's loss, she didn't even pause to watch where it fell, she was instead twisting in John's grip again, and he saw her other hand thrusting out towards Teyla's arrival. Light glimmered off the knife's blade as it rushed towards Teyla as she rose from the water.

However, it was not the only metal shining in superfast action. John saw the sheen of water across one of Teyla's swords as it broke the surface of the water, swinging up and round towards Iketani and her approaching knife arm.

A quickly as John saw the sword moving towards Iketani, he also realised that he was in the same direction as the swinging sword. Iketani clearly processed it as well, for she was dropping her self, turning as she did so that John's neck would meet Teyla's sword slicing through the air.

John realised all this in a fraction of a moment, and could only just begin to release Iketani so that he could himself avoid being beheaded.

Teyla, however, was in control, and her sword, glimmering with water droplets, sliced up and away from John. As Teyla diverted her attacked, she was also reaching under her own striking arm towards Iketani.

By this point, John had entirely released Iketani and he stumbled backwards through the seaweed thick area of water, out of the reach of either of the women's blades.

Teyla managed to grasp a full handful of Iketani' shoulder length hair in her right hand, but the blonde woman responded, twisting so fast that John could barely process it until it had already happened. He saw her short knife piercing out towards Teyla again, but Teyla stepped sideways, her grip slipping but holding on the woman's water slicked hair, as she swung her sword down on the backswing with her left hand, straight for Iketani' head.

Iketani pulled back as much as she could, her hair slipping in Teyla's hold as she did, giving her space to lift her knife up to meet Teyla's sword in time. John watched the two blades lock against each other, the two women pushing behind them, leaning their strength into it. Teyla still had a half good grip of Iketani' hair, pulling the woman down and to the side, straining her neck muscles and shoulders to near breaking point surely. Iketani resisted though, twisting her weight further behind the locked blades, forcing Teyla's arm up towards the blades. Both of Iketani' hands were on her knife handle, holding back the superior strength and length of Teyla's sword, but Teyla's attack had been on a backswing and in her left hand, so the knife easily held strong in the grating battling lock.

Teyla wrenched harder on Iketani' hair, but her grip was slipping further with the water. However, the pull partially snapped one of the elastic ties that held Iketani' half mask in place and it loosened over the woman's face. It meant that part of Iketani' vision was now somewhat obscured, but Teyla was still pulling, twisting her grip further on the woman's hair.

Iketani cried out in angry pain as her head was pulled close to the locked blades, but it also threatened Teyla's own hand. In danger of cutting her own hand with her own sword, Teyla released the woman's hair, but instantly slammed her fist up and forward again into Iketani' retreating cheek. The woman's healthy untarnished cheek took the brunt of the blow, which further shifted the half mask, revealing part of her chin where the rough, mutilated edges of the hidden scar began.

Iketani cried out again, in rage this time, as she shifted her weight, almost causing Teyla to topple forward as the pressure against her sword was altered. Then Iketani turned and thrust her knife sideways, finally deflecting the lock away from her.

Teyla's sword was now being sent in the wrong direction and she should have stepped back to allow space to swing the sword back down and round to defend herself, but instead she just kept moving towards Iketani.

Every part of John tensed in panic as Teyla moved towards Iketani' double handed knife hold. What was she doing?

However, Teyla had pulled a small knife of her own out of her belt with her free hand and now thrust it directly towards Iketani' face. Iketani ducked aside from the attack, but it had rattled her as Teyla had presumably intended. It also had given Teyla time to bring her sword back towards Iketani, but hilt first. John watched it sail only an inch past Iketani' shocked retreating expression. The hilt did however finally knock the half mask away from Iketani' face, and revealed the long deep scar that cut up through her cheek, just stopping short of her eye. In that eye, John saw the battle fury of Iketani, but also the fear of the sword blade that was following the hammer strike of the hilt.

Iketani' threw herself backwards, barely in time, but John saw blood skim across Iketani' forehead. She tumbled back and almost down into the water away from Teyla, but as she got one foot planted against in the ground she instead thrust her knife up towards Teyla's middle. Teyla's small knife met the attack, but Iketani was on the offense now. She pushed off the ground and physically shoved herself up and against Teyla. Teyla's sword was still on its outward swing and unable to help, so Iketani' momentum slammed both of them backwards down into the water, further towards John where he stood, feeling completely helpless.

If he could find a stunner, maybe he could end this, but all he could see around him was water, desperately battling warrior women, and far too sharp blades. He couldn't even risk getting closer to Teyla for fear of being hurt himself and throwing her off her game. He could only watch, waiting for a chance to help, as the women went down into the water locked together, their knives caught up somewhere between them.

The water rushed up around them in a torrent of splashes that was only increased by the fact that they were still fighting on the way down into the water. In a far too similar moment to Jaws, he saw something dark and red within the sloshed up water around them. His heart froze, but all he could do was watch, still feeling completely useless. He could see vague movement under the water, see kicking and shoving going on. He was just contemplating ducking under the water himself to see what was happening, when Iketani broke up through the surface. Red stained the side of her pale clothing and rage was hot and angry in the face. She still had her knife and she strode forward as she came up into the air, and moved to slam her knife down towards where Teyla was still under water.

John lunged forward without thinking as to what Teyla might be doing under the surface, he just had to intercept that plunging knife thrust. He grabbed at Iketani' arm with both hands, shoving at her and wrenching at her wrist. This time he was successful, having caught her by surprise. He suspected that she had completely forgotten he was there until the instant he impacted into her. Her large bright blue eyes turned on him, the surprise clear in them, and then with anger and resentment as he twisted the bones of her wrist and pulled. She wisely let go of the knife and it was suddenly in John's hands, but Iketani had slipped out of his grip as she stepped back from him. As Iketani retreated that step, Teyla again rose up out of the water close to John and literally launched herself at Iketani.

With Iketani' knife now in John's hands, she was presumably disarmed, but the women were both mentally and emotionally locked in this fight now.

Teyla's sword swung towards Iketani' middle forcing the woman to leap backwards again, but just as the blade passed her, Iketani ran back at Teyla again. John had never seen two women so vicious and determined. Well, except one time in a bar in Texas, but that had been more hair pulling and nail gouging. This violent animalistic, yet highly trained, pair was fighting purely off emotion now. The scream of rage from Iketani sounded frightening primitive, but Teyla responded with an angry breathy shout of her own as she met Iketani' attack.

Teyla brought her elbow up and round, ramming it into Iketani' shoulder and then as Iketani caught her in a tight bear hug to force her back and down into the water again, Teyla turned her elbow and caught Iketani up under the chin. There was no knife in Teyla's hand anymore, but the close strike of her elbow clearly rattled Iketani lights for a second.

Iketani' attacking momentum had almost forced Teyla back down into the water again, but Teyla got her feet planted and shoved back at Iketani. Iketani' hands grappled with Teyla's sword arm, keeping the deadly blade held away over Teyla's shoulder as they wrestled through the waist high water, pure strength against strength.

John could see almost immediately that Teyla was stronger, but Iketani was unarmed and she had to know that she had pushed Teyla too far. Was this too far for Teyla? Was she like this when she killed Wraith Queens? This was a primal powerful version of her, but scary too, and yet despite that obvious fact, John still desperately looked for how he could help her. He almost stepped in to grab at Iketani from behind to pull her off Teyla, to end the fight, but Teyla brought her forehead down towards Iketani' nose to end the stalemate herself.

Blood was already a thin layer across Iketani' forehead, but she lowered her forehead to meet Teyla's attack, rather than taking it on the nose as was intended. John winced at the impact, though neither woman seemed too dazed. Teyla, however, had gotten her moment and she roughly shoved Iketani back, and brought her sword slicing round, scattering droplets of water, heading straight towards Iketani' throat.

Teyla let out another angry battle cry as she swung, and Iketani wisely tried to get back as fast as possible. Teyla's blade met nothing but air, but Iketani kept retreating, and John could see the signs of real concern and tiredness in her now. The rage was gone and in its place was worry, edging on fear, in the face of Teyla's rage and strength.

Teyla kept advancing, her sword having cut a sharp neat return swing and was once again slicing towards Iketani.

Iketani managed to get further back, but her foot slipped under her and she went down heavily. The water was slightly shallower where she fell and John saw her surprise as her knee impacted with the stone floor earlier than expected. The water up to her chest, down on one knee, clearly defeated, Iketani lifted her shocked face up towards Teyla as the sword made another return trip, heading down speedily with deadly accuracy towards Iketani' throat.

"Teyla!" John shouted without any preceding thought, he only reacted, stepping towards them finally, one hand out imploringly towards the moment that Teyla was about to kill a human woman unharmed and on her knees.

The sword stopped, whether from his intervention or not it didn't matter. Iketani actually flinched, clearly convinced that Teyla had been about to deliver a killing blow. However, the blade held still a few inches from the side of her neck, but did not retreat.

Iketani' face was paler than was natural for her, her eyes wide and shocked, fear in them for the first time that John had ever seen. She was breathing fast and loudly through her nose, both her hands up and empty.

John saw her blink, saw the calculation return, and her hands lifted higher as she settled her other knee on the stone floor. She was defeated and she knew it. Her only way out of this, other than for Teyla to kill her, was to surrender, and instantly that was what she had selected.

Teyla's sword moved the few remaining inches and the sharp edge touched against Iketani' throat.

Teyla was panting loudly with the exertion of their fight, but also clearly with anger. She wanted to kill Iketani, fighting fury and the need for vengeance raged inside her, clear for John to see as he neared them through the water.

Alien seaweed tangled up around one of his legs, but he focused solely on Teyla. Did he have any right to intervene? Iketani tried to kill her family, had tried to kill her just now, and surely Elite were not used to pulling their strikes in battle.

"Teyla," John repeated quieter, and he saw Iketani' wary eyes slid to him and then back up to Teyla.

Teyla held still though, breathing through her clench teeth, water dripping from her dark twilight suit. She had taken her coat off before diving into the cave, he only now realised, leaving her in the dark bodysuit, which outlined her lean predatory feminine shape as she stood over her prey.

The moment lengthened further, but then Teyla's shoulders began to lower, the tension easing away, as she stepped back from Iketani. Her sword remained against the woman's skin though.

"Iketani, you are charged with traitorous acts against the Elite," Teyla intoned, her voice angry, but she was in control once more. "For the assassination of High Councillor Garthew of Rosenthal, for the murder of the traitor Breack, for the attempted assassination of High Councillor Charin of Athos, Leader Torren of Athos, and Zabetha of Athos, and for grievous harm to Rhakshar of Xinda. And for the many other charges that will be brought against you by the Alliance, its people, and its allies."

As Teyla's words neared their end, John could hear movement from the two cave entrances, heard voices calling. Help was here, but typically moments too late.

Jobrill, Kari, and three other Elite burst into the cave, all levelling stunners on Iketani, but it was immediately clear that the situation was under control.

It was over.

Only then, John remembered Ford.

He turned away from Teyla and the other Elite now striding through the water towards their prisoner, and as quickly as he could through the water, he hurried towards where Ford still laid unmoving and quiet. As the Elite began talking with each other, some cursing that they had missed taking Iketani down, John reached Ford's side on the patch of higher ground.

"Lieutenant?" John called to him, as he pressed his fingers to the man's damp throat and felt for a pulse. Ford flinched slightly at the contact, and instantly John felt some of his renewed panic ease. "Lieutenant, can you hear me?"

Ford moved slightly again, but not by much.

"Ford, wake up will you," John ordered, and finally Ford's eyes gradually began to open.

"Shep…" Ford managed to say as his eyes focused blurrily up at John.

"Hey, Buddy," John encouraged him. "You've been sleeping on the job."

Ford lifted his head slightly from the wet ground under him, and John got a good look at a bloody bump on the side of the man's head.

"She's…" Ford said worriedly as he frowned at the water around them.

"Don't worry, we've taken care of her. You missed all the fun," John replied, relief finally chasing away the last stresses of the day.

Finally, it really was over.

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>TBC<p> 


	29. The Challenge

**Note:** Here are 2 chapters this evening (I know!) as this time I didn't want to leave this cliffhanger waiting for another week. I've done that too much to you guys already.

Thank you all again for sticking with this fic, for the reviews, and for enjoying this AU world as much as I enjoy writing it.

My aim is to get this fic all finished and posted by the end of the year, and, so far, I'm well on track to do so. I hope everyone is geared up for the Christmas and New Year season. Bring it on.

**Chapter 29 – The Challenge**

0000

It was finally over, at least in that Iketani had finally been caught, but as Teyla watched the traitor being secured, she knew that the repercussions of today would likely echo for a long time to come.

An Elite warrior had betrayed her own and the Alliance, and that truth would finally have to be revealed to those outside the Military Council now, and it was likely that it would damage the sterling reputation of the Elite. That they had been the ones to capture the traitor would help negate some of the damage, but Iketani would have to be tried and then further dark truths would be revealed. The deceits from within the High Council that Iketani had created and exploited would now be exposed to all, and that alone could severely damage the Alliance.

Fracture lines had already begun appearing in the Alliance, but they had been thin easily ignored cracks that could be repaired and concealed, but with Iketani' actions, Teyla had to wonder if this one woman's legacy would be as she had originally intended – to destabilise the Alliance seat of power.

Perhaps that was why Iketani stood so willingly now, her hands secured at her back and her upper arms down to her elbows pinned to her sides by constraints. Jobrill had gone through Iketani' clothing, cutting away large swathes of skirts and sleeves, which, unsurprisingly, had been found to contain small concealed blades sewn into the hems and hidden pockets within the fabric's folds. It was expected of an Elite to conceal all manner of weapons on her person, and they were treating Iketani' imprisonment as if it was any one of them were captured and with the knowledge as to how they would themselves escape. Her hair had been combed through and, sure enough, two sharpened pins had been retrieved from behind her ears. Her boots had been removed, and parts of a tiny stunner had been removed from each heel, along with a slim knife strapped inside one boot. Jobrill cut into the boots' soles to be sure nothing else was concealed, and only then were the boots quickly shoved back on the woman's legs.

Teyla watched all this with a strange sense of detachment.

She had expected to have felt great satisfaction at Iketani' capture, but instead she felt oddly tired and indifferent. Perhaps it was the sight of watching a former Elite being constrained like a Wraith prisoner. It was only now that the day's events were truly being impressed upon Teyla, and with it the realisation that this woman had ruined so much. The purity of the Elite, the honour and security of the High Council…ruined. Rhakshar may even be dead; she had no way to know until they returned to Alliance territory. Garthew's people would be mourning the loss of their Representative, likely already trialling the assassin. Teyla suspected the man would not live to see tomorrow. Many questions would be asked about Alliance security, about were power sat, and there would be demands for trials and new safe guards. It was to be expected, and necessary perhaps, for Iketani had only exploited what had already been there. Teyla hated to agree with anything Iketani said, but she was correct that there were those within the Alliance, especially in the halls of power, who were becoming complacent and power hungry. Teyla only hoped that the consequences of Iketani' acts would not play too strongly into those hands.

Iketani herself stood with her chin high and her expression oddly mocking as she was once more frisked thoroughly.

Teyla looked away from her, for there were enough Elite eyes watching the traitor.

The cave in which they all stood was next to the water filled cavern where Teyla had finally been able to defeat Iketani, but it was still very wet and uncomfortable in here. Teyla's clothing was soaked through, but already the new material of her suit was drying out. She had collected her coat and stunner on the way in here, but she would not put her coat on until she was far drier, which should not take too long. Her hair however felt cold and heavy with water against her shoulders. She longed to remove it from the confining braids over her head and dry it all thoroughly, but, for now, she could only squeeze water from the loose locks damp over her shoulders.

As she did so again, she looked across the cave where John stood beside Lieutenant Ford. The Lieutenant had sustained a head wound, a broken wrist and, judging from the way he was sat, Teyla suspected he also had some cracked ribs. Kari had been seeing to him and, with John's assistance, they had bound up the Lieutenant's forehead wound and splintered his wrist. Despite his injuries, Lieutenant Ford was smiling faintly and responding to John's teasing jokes. The two of them, like her, were soaked through, but their uniforms would not dry as quickly as hers would. Kari had cut open Lieutenant Ford's sleeve in order to help him remove the saturated tactical vest over his injured arm, and the soaked vest was now piled at John's feet, along with his own vest and jacket.

Teyla could not help but notice the thin wet shirt John wore clung closely to his body.

John had fought well back in the cavern, having intervened twice against Iketani, and he had even involved himself at the every end.

He had asked her not to kill Iketani.

Teyla was still unclear what that meant to her.

She had been ready to kill the woman, as was justified by the woman's attack on her and her family, and even against John.

Yet, John's call to her, in that final moment, had registered.

Some of her still wished she had killed Iketani, yet another part of her admitted that it could have been seen as wrong against an unarmed defeated woman at her feet. She suspected she would struggle with her decision for some time to come; she only hoped that she would not live to regret it. Iketani was doubtless already planning how she would try to scheme her way out of her imprisonment.

Jobrill stepped back from Iketani, pronouncing the traitor was ready to be moved and waved Iketani forward with the end of her stunner.

More than ready to leave these weeping caves, Teyla pushed away from the large piece of damp fallen stone against which she had been leaning, and proceeded to follow the others leaving the cave, Iketani kept in the middle of their group.

As she passed him, Teyla watched Lieutenant Ford push himself upright, his pain filled groan audible, but he looked steady enough on his feet for now, and it seemed that his head injury had not caused him too much damage. Teyla exchanged a nod with the honourable warrior, impressed by his resilience and strength in the face of injury. Beside him, John reached down for their soaked through clothing. Teyla's gaze was once more drawn to the sight of the wet material of John's shirt clinging to his broad chest and wide shoulders, giving her considerable insight into the lean strength of him hidden beneath. She quickly lifted her eyes to meet his as he stood upright once more and looked round in her direction. His expression was oddly concerned. He smiled at her, but it was cautious, assessing, and she suspected that he was concerned about his earlier intervention in her battle with Iketani.

She did not blame him, for if she had willed it, she would have acted any way she so chose. Elite did not regret choices, did not cast blame on others or deem other's influence as more important than their own. The mantra seemed oddly contaminated now by Iketani' twisted adherence to the same rules.

Iketani may not care of others, thinking of them only as how they could serve her means, but Teyla was nothing like her.

She smiled at John as much as she would in public view, and inclined her head to him as she did Lieutenant Ford. His return smile conveyed that she had been correct in her interpretation of his caution, for he looked somewhat relieved.

His smile abruptly lifted her darkened feelings somewhat, pulling her from her brooding of past choices and uncertain futures. As she looked back at John and Lieutenant Ford, she took in the sight of the two men with more amusement. John's hair was wet through and stood almost entirely upright, making him appear quite ruffled, but no less attractive. His smile along with his lean muscular strength, highlighted by the damp clothing clinging to him, lifted her dwelling thoughts further. As she looked away to follow the others from the cave, she had a sudden tempting thought to suggest John might be more comfortable removing his cold damp shirt entirely.

The stirring and pleasing thought faded slightly as her eyes returned to Iketani ahead of her, secured tightly and surrounded by wary Elite with drawn stunners and suspicious eyes. It was with slow careful watchful eyes that they led Iketani back through the cave system. She occasionally slowed to step carefully over small obstacles, and everyone watched closely in return, waiting for her to try something. Teyla suspected that Iketani found it amusing to play with them this way.

However, in short order they were once again in the first large cave into which the tunnel from the bunker had led.

Oneakka was waiting for them. He stood tall and strong to Teyla's eyes, for which she was grateful. As he moved forward to meet them, he walked solidly displaying no signs of obvious concussion, but the bandage wrapped around his temple and another around his shoulder, were both stained through with drying blood. Blood had also dried down one side of his face, further intensifying his intimidating appearance. As he strode forward, his eyes intent on Iketani, Teyla could see the anger blazing in him.

She quickened her pace to move ahead of Iketani and her guards to intercept Oneakka before he reached them. "Oneakka," she greeted him, "How do you fare?" Hoping to distract him and reduce his fury, though he had every right to it.

He ignored her question and strode right past her, straight towards Iketani. Kari, who had been at the head of the guard detail, immediately stepped aside to allow him by.

Iketani herself stopped with the guards as Oneakka strode menacing towards her, right up into her personal space. She did not back away, so that when he did finally stop, he was stood right in her face, leaning over her slightly with his extra few inches of height.

Teyla tensed up at seeing him so close to an enemy. At such a tiny distance, Iketani could attack him with any manner of methods. It was unlikely any would cause any serious damage, but if a head butt was aimed towards his already injured forehead… Elite would kick, bite, and scratch if needed, for the brutal fighting against Wraith held no rules.

Oneakka knew this, yet stood right up close to Iketani, his threatening eyes locked with hers.

Teyla realised that her stunner was already in her hand.

Beyond the standoff, John and Lieutenant Ford had stilled, cautiously waiting some distance behind the Elite group. Though he had one arm around Lieutenant Ford, supporting the man's wavering steps, John's free hand already had his Earth gun ready, his watchful eyes on Oneakka and Iketani. Teyla suspected that the Earth weapon would be unlikely to fire after being soaked through back in the cavern, but she was not entirely sure. She did not know much about Earth weapons. She would have to remedy that soon.

Now, however, it was Elite weapons that were trained on Iketani, who stood tall and defiant in Oneakka's looming shadow. Oneakka seemed massive compared to her, not only due to his muscle mass and wide shoulders, but due to the anger practically emanating off him in heavy waves. Teyla edged slightly to one side so that she would have an improved line of sight if she needed to stun either one of them.

Silence lingered in the cave, all eyes on Oneakka and Iketani, all waiting to see what would happen.

Teyla shifted slightly further to the right so that she could see Oneakka's face more clearly. She was surprised what she saw there.

His expression had twisted from pure aggression to a mocking amusement. His lips twisted in what looked like disgust.

Iketani was definitely close enough to bite him if she wanted to, but she stood chin up, meeting his eyes with stubborn defiance in the face of his aggression. Her expression seemed to be designed to tempt Oneakka to try and attack her.

Teyla gripped her stunner a little tighter and looked back to Oneakka.

Oneakka, however, sneered again, as if he had smelt something disgusting, and then began to move. He turned entirely round, right in Iketani' face, presenting her with his unprotected back only scant inches away from her. It was perhaps the most insulting act Teyla had seen given by an Elite to another. She had expected Oneakka to attack Iketani, or shout at her, perhaps goad her into a fight as she had been trying to do to him. This act of his spoke far louder.

Without words, he told Iketani that he had no respect for her, that he did not fear her in the slightest, or think her worth his attack or concern. His back to her told her that she was weak and harmless.

Iketani was unable to hide her shock and anger at the insult, and Teyla saw her clench her jaw tightly. Teyla lifted her stunner slightly, ready to see how Iketani would choose to retaliate. Not that there would be much she could do.

Oneakka held still with his back to her, bare inches from Iketani' nose, and he crossed his arms as if bored. He showed no sign that the knife wound to his shoulder pained him, though surely it had to.

Iketani glanced aside at the stunners around her, at her previous colleagues, the great warriors of the Elite.

And she did nothing.

Oneakka angled his head slightly, as if he had faintly heard something, only to then shrug, relax his arms and he strode directly away from Iketani, his back to her the entire time.

He headed straight for the tunnel that would take them back to the bunker, and he snapped on his hand light as he reached the dark entrance. There he paused and looked back at the group, as if asking why they were just waiting around, before he disappeared into the tunnel.

Teyla didn't try to control her smile as she lowered her stunner to her side. She would never have expected that from Oneakka. She very much looked forward to telling Halling of it.

The confrontation over, the group followed Oneakka into the tunnel. They made their way cautiously with Iketani, but at a steady pace back along the narrow wet passageway. This time Teyla felt every cold drip of the water from the ceiling above her, all of it further dampening her drying suit. Soon enough the tunnel began to level out and the distant light of the bunker could eventually be seen.

It was with great relief that Teyla stepped out of the tunnel and back into the dry hallway of the bunker. They followed the corridor there back towards the exit and finally they climbed up and back onto the surface of Milioc Primary.

The air was instantly warmer and blissfully drier. Teyla drew in the air with great appreciation as she strode forward across the sandy ground. It was almost surreal the difference between the dry ground up here to the wet dank world deep in the rock below.

Milioc's sun was now considerably lower in the sky, hovering halfway between the peaks of the nearby mountains and the horizon. It cast long thin dark shadows across the ground as the strong golden sunlight slanted across the empty landscape towards the bunker entrance.

The subdued locals were gone, as were Iketani' stunned servants. There was plenty of disturbed sand near where the cart had previous stopped and she suspected that Si had seen all the prisoners transported away via the Portal already. The radio burst into activity in her ear and she listened with some triumph as Kari reported Iketani' capture. The shuttle still sat at the far bunker entrance was dispatched to them immediately.

Across the dry ground where the local settlement was enclosed in a dry strong fence, Teyla saw Si heading towards them, so she walked on to meet him across the sandy ground.

"I had no doubt you would find her," Si intoned as soon as he was close enough for her to hear him.

Teyla inclined her head as she stopped and waited for him to join her. As she did, she saw whom Si had been stood with at the settlement fence. Several stern looking people stood just inside the settlement's territory, and one in particular met Teyla's attention. He was leant against the fence and had an air of authority, but also concern. Teyla suspected he was the settlement's leader.

"How have things gone here?" She asked as Si reached her.

"I explained the situation to them," he replied.

"You told them everything?" Teyla asked with surprise.

"It told them enough," Si clarified with a faint smile as they fell into step back towards the bunker. "She set herself up as something close to a divine figure here to the locals."

Teyla frowned at that, though it did not surprise her all that much. However, the lordly being Iketani had set herself up to be was no more, as emphasised by her constraints where she stood in the centre of her circle of guards, all of them well out of an arm's or a kick's reach. Once the shuttle arrived, they would be able to shackle the traitor's ankles, which would relax her guards somewhat.

Teyla noticed that John had found Lieutenant Ford a crate to sit on, though the injured man appeared unhappy at having to sit down and appear weak. John gestured more forcefully at the crate, and Teyla suspected he had now made it an order that the younger man sit down. Lieutenant Ford resisted for a second more and then finally did as he was instructed. Teyla made sure not to show her amusement at the interaction.

"Is everyone well?" Si asked, no doubt in reference to Oneakka and Lieutenant Ford's obviously bandaged wounds.

"No major injuries," Teyla reported as they paused at the edge of the group.

"Will Atlantis retaliate at our injuring their warriors?" Si asked louder so that John and Lieutenant Ford would hear him. His teasing amusement was obvious.

"You had fun sitting up here while we did all the work?" John called back.

A few of the Elite who had not interacted with John before today glanced round with surprise at his tone and attitude.

Si only chuckled, the sound deep and relaxed.

A soft rush of noise in the near distance heralded the shuttle's arrival, and Teyla turned to watch the pale grey ship approaching. As it grew closer, the air began to move, stirring up sand into the air and against them. Shielding her eyes, Teyla kept her attention fixed on Iketani, knowing that now would be a good opportunity in which to try to escape. However, all the other Elite had recognised this as well, as all eyes were on Iketani, despite the swirling sand as the shuttle flew low overhead, sweeping round to land a short distance again.

Iketani for her part, only turned slightly, putting her back and shoulders to the worst of the sand and wind, as with her hands and arms pinned she had no other way to protect her face.

Teyla found herself looking at the long scar down the woman's cheek. It had healed well enough, but it had essentially ruined Iketani' beauty. Teyla felt nothing even close to regret or guilt at that fact. She sported a scar of her own from that same day, only hers had been into her upper back, thanks to Iketani' traitorous act.

The shuttle settled solidly on the ground and the air finally settled around them.

Teyla lowered her hand that had protected her face, only for her attention to be drawn by Oneakka. He stood looking off in the opposite direction to the shuttle and there was deep frown across his face.

Teyla turned immediately, her stunner raised, tracking across the empty sand for what had drawn Oneakka's attention.

The bold golden light of Milioc's sun shone against her face, obscuring much of the landscape that ran along the settlement's lone road.

Teyla saw movement on that road now, but it was a small shape moving through the sunlight. She lifted her free hand to block some of the light, enabling her to study the approaching shape more closely.

It was a man, still some distance away, walking down the centre of the roadway. He was tall and his shoulders were cast in dark shadows with the late sunlight behind him.

As he moved steadily closer, Teyla noted the extra shadows at his hips that spoke of weapons strapped to him. He was striding forward, head high, his arms relaxed at his sides, but there was a sense of restrained power to him.

Teyla realised who it was.

"Massa," Oneakka identified him for the rest of the group.

That realisation brought forth a series of difference responses in Teyla, and no doubt to all the Elite with her.

She had almost forgotten Massa in all of this.

Massa had sought Iketani for months following her initial betrayal, swearing that he would avenge his lost love, Mera, whose death Iketani had responsible. However, he had not been present when they had finally tracked Iketani down on Mada with the help of Atlantis. There, in that other underground bunker, they had thought Iketani killed, and Massa had seemed unable to forgive himself since for having missed it. He had said that he had failed Mera. Though Oneakka had presented him with Iketani' sword, it had not been enough for Massa, and he had not fought with the Elite since. He had then been the first to report Iketani' possible reappearance from the dead, for she had stolen her sword back from him. Right from under his nose.

Now he had once again missed the vital moment against Iketani.

Teyla had no idea how he would react.

She glanced back at the group around Iketani. Most of them had their attention on their prisoner, but Oneakka stood frowning towards Massa's approach. The bright sunlight against his face made his pale complexion seem even more so against the dried dark blood down the scarred side of his face.

Iketani shifted in the centre of her guards and Teyla turned her attention to the traitor, curious at how she would react to Massa's arrival.

Iketani had her eyes half closed against the sunlight, which almost washed out the strong line of her scar down her face. However, the bold light allowed Teyla to see her expression very clearly. Teyla was not certain, but she thought she saw some concern behind the woman's usual calculated amusement.

Teyla returned her attention to Massa's approach.

He was almost at the turn of the road that led to the settlement. Si lifted a hand in greeting, but Massa did not respond other than to lift his chin. As he strode over the edge of the road and onto the wide expanse of sandy ground that led towards them, Teyla glanced at Si beside her. Without discussion, they both moved forward to meet their fellow warrior.

They walked at a steady pace towards him, the sunlight frustratingly in their face, which Teyla could not help but note was to Massa's advantage.

Now within metres of him, Teyla could see the strong strained lines of Massa's face. He had lost weight since she had last seen him, though she saw no loss of muscle mass across his shoulders and down the bared expanse of his long large arms. His gaze was directed beyond her and Si, no doubt fixed on Iketani behind them.

"Massa," Si greeted him. "We have her," he reported unnecessarily.

Once within arm's reach of them, Massa drew to a stop, though his eyes remained locked on Iketani in the centre of her guards.

"I demand the right of blood kin," Massa stated.

Teyla should have expected it perhaps, but she was still surprised by his declaration. The right of blood kin was rarely used now by the Elite. It had been used in the early days of the Elite, when the Wraith had terrorised the Alliance territories more freely. Elite who had lost family to a Wraith could demand the right to avenge their blood kin personally, thereby demanding the right to be the one to kill specific Wraith, most notably the Wraith Queen who was responsible. As most of an Elite's family were now in safe protected territory, this right was not often invoked. It was sometimes used to avenge killed Elite, but again usually only against Wraith. Though Massa and Mera had not sealed their relationship with a marriage, Teyla supposed they still had essentially been kin, and he therefore had a right.

"Massa, we understand your right to this, though in this situation-" Teyla began.

"I demand the right," Massa interrupted her, his fists clenching tightly, his body practically vibrating with his growing anger as he stared at Iketani.

Teyla stepped slightly to her left, into his view of Iketani, though she knew her height allowed him still to look over her. However, her movement demanded acknowledgement from him and he did lower his eyes to look at her.

"Let him kill her," Oneakka called out through the clear air.

Si glanced back to him and then back to Massa. "It is not the way of the Elite to kill unarmed, weakened prisoners," he intoned, having put emphasis on 'weakened' for Iketani' benefit.

"I will fight her," Massa stated immediately. "It is my right to blood vengeance."

He wanted them to release Iketani, arm her and set them fighting against each other.

"There have been no vengeance challenges in a long time," Teyla said.

"The Military still honour them," Massa argued. "The Satedans invoke the right all the time."

It was true that the Satedans used such battles as part of their justice system. Anyone responsible for the murder of another of their people could be challenged to a vengeance challenge by the kin of the deceased. Such battles only ended with the death of one of the fighters and no one else was allowed to interfere. If the challenger lost and the criminal won, then the criminal was released. However, they were usually recaptured quickly, but some could occasionally get away, out of Alliance territory in time. Teyla suspected there had been some such individuals back on Dreamstation.

However, letting Iketani and Massa fight to the death was somewhat more risky.

"Massa," Teyla stated in a quieter, yet emphatic tone that drew Massa's attention again. "I have fought her, and she is fast and unpredictable. She may very well kill you." She kept her tone low enough that the others behind her would not hear her, which would be dishonouring Massa's skills as a warrior. However, she had to make the valid point to Massa.

"If you want this, we must honour the rules of the challenge," Si said. "We cannot interfere even if it means your death, Honoured Elite."

Massa looked at him. "If I die then I will make sure that she dies with me," he stated with complete conviction. Teyla worried that perhaps he had lost some of his mind to grief.

"Massa," she replied, concerned. "She is _very_ fast. You must not underestimate her skill." She did not add more than that, for they were warriors and understood. Though Massa was a skilled and powerful warrior, his size and dependence on powerful strikes, made him slower. He was still faster than most military warriors, but against an Elite, against Iketani, who used her agile body to deliver swift killing blows, twisting around locks and blades to kill, he may be too slow to win.

Massa met her gaze solidly, and there Teyla saw his determination and his desperate, but clear thinking, need for this.

"It is my right," he repeated, "to demand this challenge."

Teyla held his gaze, struggling against her own agreement with him. He did deserve the right, but could they give it to him. Iketani should be put on trial, shown to the Alliance as the schemer and deceiver that she was, to prove that she was to blame for what had happened and to help then heal wounds in the Alliance. If she was killed here, could that still happen effectively?

Teyla looked at Si. "Without her at a trial-"

"I will fight him," Iketani' voice carried from behind, drawing all attention to her.

Teyla glanced back to Iketani. The woman's hair was almost entirely dried through, leaving the golden locks dancing around her face in the faintly rising breeze. Teyla resented the amused expression across Iketani' face, as if this were a joke in Massa's face, but she had also surprised Teyla. Iketani knew that if this challenge went ahead, that she could be killed, but then she also knew that if she won, then by the rules of the challenge they should let her go. It was a risk that Iketani seemed prepared to accept.

"As long as the _Honourable_ Elite keep to the challenge's rules and let me go once it is over," Iketani added, turning to face them more directly, her chin lifting haughtily and her lips sneering with challenge.

"She doesn't leave this space alive," Oneakka stated angrily, moving forwards slightly and stabbing his finger down at the sandy ground around them.

Iketani glanced at him with cold indifference and then looked back towards Teyla. "You accused me of dishonour, yet it seems that the rest of the Elite are just as willing to surrender 'honour' for their own purposes."

Teyla pressed her teeth together as she turned her back on Iketani and faced Massa again. "She needs to stand trial, to prove to the High Council that she alone is responsible for what has happened."

"The High Council are corrupted," Massa responded with a heavy frown. "They will protect themselves whether she is alive or not. Better that she is dead and unable to threaten anyone again. They will only lock her in a comfortable cage, give her good food and likely cater to her whims so that she does not name those who originally helped her to try to seize power."

Teyla had to admit that he may have a valid point, but for him to risk himself in this, to take away the chance of clear blame…

"Let him kill her," Kari called out her opinion. "It will save us hassle."

"It would be best for the reputation of the Elite that she is clearly shown as the schemer behind what has happened," Jobrill responded.

"Her death will send a clearer signal, that Elite will not tolerate betrayal, by anyone," another suggested.

Teyla glanced at Si again. He was frowning, his fast mind considering all angles as she was attempting to do.

"It does not matter," Massa stated. "I demand the right of blood vengeance," he called loudly for all to head. "For the death of Honoured Elite Mera, my chosen, and," his voice wavered, "for the murder of our unborn young that she carried."

All eyes were upon him, all hearts moving at the secret that he had kept to himself all this time.

All the grief that he had suffered all suddenly made more sense to Teyla, for he had not only felt blame for not avenging his love, but that he had been unable to protect his unborn young. A young life never allowed to begin; killed by Iketani' orders along with its mother. An Elite child.

Teyla stepped aside, leaving the space open for Massa to move towards Iketani.

Teyla had her fears over this course of action, for she knew how dangerous Iketani was, and how emotionally unfocused Massa might very well be. As Massa began to move forward, Teyla spoke quietly to him.

"In honour of Mera, and your Elite young, do not let your warrior mind be clouded by anything other than battle. See Iketani as the cold scheming Wraith Queen she is at heart."

Massa did not respond to her words directly, but he hesitated for a moment, before moving on towards his enemy.

Without any further discussion, Jobrill set about freeing Iketani from her wrist and arm constraints, whilst the others kept a close watch. Teyla and Si followed Massa to stop a metre in front of the now freed traitor.

"We will keep to the rules of the Satedan challenges, since they have been named as precedent," Si intoned to everyone. "The challenge will be fought on open level ground. Each fighter will have only two hand-to-hand weapons, and all observers will keep half a field's length distance away, which is roughly a shuttle's length. That distance must be kept at _all_ times, regardless as to where the fight may shift to on the ground."

Iketani lifted her hands, palms up. "I will have a sword and a knife," she asked, as if she were asking for two drinks.

No one moved to give her their weapons. Iketani' sword had been lost in the water of the cave in which Teyla had fought her and no one had gone out of their way to find it in the murky water. However, it meant that someone else would have to give her his or her weapon with which she would to attempt to kill Massa. Teyla crossed her arms.

"This is yours," Jobrill said as she slapped a knife handle into one of Iketani' hand. It was the one she had found in Iketani' boot. Jobrill turned away immediately and walked away, towards where the others were heading a half field's length away.

Oneakka remained, arms crossed, his expression conflicted as he watched Massa begin sliding free his many weapons. Massa held out each weapon in turn as he removed it, passing it to either Teyla or to Si. Teyla slid two stunners into the back of her belt, and three of his knives went into one pocket of her coat, which she still carried. Oneakka was ostensibly watching over Iketani until the fight began, but Teyla knew he did not want to walk away.

As she took a further stunner from Si and slid it into another coat pocket, she glanced to where John was assisting Lieutenant Ford across the sand to the prescribed distance from the fight. John angled his head round as he moved away, looking back towards them with the worried expression of one who had fought Iketani. She wondered if John judged them unfairly for allowing Massa to fight the traitor to the death.

Teyla looked away from him back to Massa, a rattle of annoyance passing through her as she became acutely aware that she cared far too much what John thought of her choices. It should not matter to an Elite warrior what anyone thought of her.

Massa finally passed his last excess weapon to Si, leaving him with one curved sword and one knife, which had a wide blade and a decoratively designed hilt. Teyla knew it had been Mera's, and she suspected that Massa had been carrying it all this time to use at this decisive moment. He really had been suffering these many long months, tormented with what he saw as his failure and the grief of losing his family. It was another reminder in this difficult day that emotional attachments could lead to so much grief, so much distraction for a warrior. Yet, as she looked up at the noble warrior that was Massa, she felt nothing but respect and empathy for him.

"No one is to assist me in this challenge," Massa shouted loudly so all could hear him, but Teyla saw that Massa's attention was actually directed on Oneakka. "I am an Elite warrior, I will die in battle, perhaps today, but if I do so it will be with honour and in the name of vengeance for those killed unjustly. Do not dishonour my life and death by interfering."

The words seemed to echo in the silence that followed. In the distance, the shuttle sat on the sand, the two pilots sat in the open side door, watching along with everyone else. There was enough firepower and bladed weapons to make sure that Iketani would never be able to win this, but Massa was right that he had his right and they would honour it.

"We will _all_ honour the Challenge," Si said for everyone, his eyes sliding to Oneakka pointedly.

"And will Elite honour extend to my winning?" Iketani asked. "When I win, will I be released?" Her tone baited them to say otherwise.

"_If_ you win, then you will be released," Si replied, which clearly did not exclude the fact that the Elite would pursue her.

"If I remember Satedan law correctly, I will have an hour's escape window," Iketani added. "And I still require a sword." Her empty hand extended towards Teyla, waiting.

Teyla bristled. Si had no sword, and Massa was already using his, which left only one of Teyla's swords. Teyla was certain that she could not hand over one of her swords to the creature that had tried to kill Father, Charin, and Zabetha.

"Give her your short sword, Oneakka," Massa said however, and Teyla felt a burst of relief.

Oneakka's frown managed somehow to deepen and he tightened his crossed arms further.

"I would not ask that Emmagan surrender one of her blades to the traitor that tried to kill her family. If a blade is to kill me, I would be pleased that it then be carried by you," Massa told him. "An honourable warrior who I have battled beside for many years." It was perhaps the closest any male Elite would come to admitting close friendship and strong emotion.

Surprisingly, Oneakka responded instantly. His frown lessened, his head dipping. He took a breath and reached to his back. He pulled out his short sword, which was more akin to a long knife in his hands, but it would satisfy Iketani' needs. He held it out to Iketani with two fingers, as if to reach more towards her was offensive to him. As soon as she took it, Oneakka turned and moved away. He looked back once at Massa.

"You owe me an entire night of drinks for this," Oneakka stated before he looked away and kept walking.

Massa smiled faintly towards Oneakka's retreating back. Oneakka had been the only one to regularly visit Massa during his self imposed isolation following Mera's murder and Iketani' apparent death. Oneakka had returned time and again to persuade Massa to return to his life, unsuccessfully. Perhaps it was the fact that Oneakka knew more than anyone the true price of seeking blood vengeance.

With both weapons acquired, Iketani moved away slightly, swinging her two blades round to loosen her arms and gain a feel for the weight of them.

"I will ensure that the rules are followed, Massa," Si said as he set a heavy hand on Massa's shoulder. "The challenge will begin when I say so," he said louder for all to hear. He gave Iketani a heavy glare as he moved away, heading away to the right distance.

Teyla remained a moment longer beside Mass though. Watching as Iketani walked a circle, loosening her limbs and swinging the blades. Her attention was apparently on warming up for the fight, but Teyla was not fooled.

"She will work to move in close," Teyla said very quietly as she moved around Massa to leave. "Make sure to keep space between you, prevent her using close twisting attacks." She laid a hand on Massa's large arm and looked up at his strained face. "You and Mera would have had the most impressive of Elite children," she added, and though emotion twisted sharply inside her heart, she kept her gaze strong and direct.

Massa blinked, his emotions so close to the surface. He nodded as he looked away to Iketani, but Teyla understood that the breaking of eye contact was so that he could remain in control. Teyla had not wished to disturb his control, but if this was to be the last time that she ever spoke to him…

"This will honour your family as well," Massa said, his eyes dropping to meet hers again. Teyla smiled at him grimly and nodded as she squeezed his forearm and let go of him.

"Good Victory, Honoured Elite," Teyla replied as she finally moved away, no longer able to look up into the man's eyes.

So much emotion, so much conflict and turmoil. It had always been considered to the be down fall of any warrior, but even among the Elite ranks it had been proven that no one could keep themselves in complete isolation. Emotion drove Elite just as much as anyone else. Though it was usually determination, courage, and anger that drove them, love had also snuck its way into their ranks. She had been aware for some time how important her fellow warriors were to her, how a select few felt like family, but it was now, walking away from Massa, that she became truly aware of how deep her feelings had become for some.

As she moved across the sand, towards those she called brothers and sisters in battle, she struggled to control the rush of emotion. Fear was in there, fear at being potentially about to watch a friend be killed, to see him throw himself into a desperate emotional battle.

She walked with her back as straight as possible. There were many Elite eyes watching over Iketani' actions, but walking with her back to the traitor, grated sharply and aggressively on Teyla's nerves. The last time she had turned her back on Iketani, the creature had plunged a knife into her. Yet, following Oneakka's example, and having faith in her fellow warriors overseeing the traitor, Teyla made it across the sand away from the site of the impending battle.

The others stood in a semi circle, the shuttle to their backs, all with arms crossed. Si stood separate at a different angle to them, enabling him to keep a better watch on everyone and from which to declare the start of the challenge.

Teyla realised she was heading towards the space between John and Oneakka, though she had not consciously planned it. Lieutenant Ford was sat on the sand, perhaps more from John's order than from his own choice, and Teyla noticed that a sling had been fashioned for him out of a strip of clothing.

As she reached the space between the concerned looking John and the stern Oneakka, she saw the glint of concealed metal in Oneakka's hand. He had a weapon in his hand, but Teyla could already see that it was not a stunner.

As she took her place next to him, turning to look in towards the challenge she pointedly looked at Oneakka.

He kept his chin forward, but Teyla saw his eyes grudgingly shift to her.

She kept up her attention on him, saying nothing, but her point was clear.

He growled loudly with frustration, then lowered his crossed arms and slid the projectile weapon back into its holster on is hip. He shoved it home, expressing his annoyance and he glared at Teyla.

Teyla simply looked away towards Massa and Iketani. "Even if she is to win, she will not escape us," she promised.

Beyond Oneakka, Teyla saw Kari look round and nod her agreement. The hour window for Iketani' escape would be honoured if it came to be, but there was no way any of the Elite present were going to leave Milioc Primary until they had her. The shuttle would be sent instantly to the Portal and no one allowed to leave through it, for there were no rules against that in the challenges. Iketani would not escape them, Teyla would see to it personally. One way or another, Iketani was leaving with them, whether it was dead or alive was up to Massa and her.

"You think he's got a chance?" John asked from her right.

She glanced at him beside her and met his eyes. They both knew how skilled a fighter Iketani was and how vicious she had been back in the cave. However, then she had fallen back on surrender, now she knew that she would not be able to opt out of this fight. She would be fighting to the death, her own death perhaps. That would change Iketani' fighting style considerably.

"Massa is a skilled warrior," was all Teyla could reply to him.

John held her gaze for a moment, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he nodded.

Teyla looked away from the insightfulness in his eyes. Instead, she focused her attention across the disturbingly distance to where Massa and Iketani stood opposite each other, weapons held ready.

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>TBC<p> 


	30. Vengeance

**Chapter 30 – Vengeance**

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John wasn't sure how he felt about this.

Conflicted with frustrated worry was probably the best description as he stood looking out across the dry ground between the line of restrained Elite warriors to where Massa and Iketani stood.

The sun was noticeably lowering in the sky, the deep yellow sunlight now cutting through the air at a low angle, casting the two fighters' shadows in long dark figures across the sand. The air was cooling fast and a breeze had started to pick up, shifting the sand across the hard dry ground.

The scene wouldn't have looked out of place in a gladiator movie, but that thought did nothing to ease John's concern.

He didn't know Massa, had barely interacted with him more than a few words. When John had first met him he had just lost Mera, and since then John had heard only snippets about him from Teyla. The guy had blamed Iketani for what had happened back on the Hastos, and John could understand why even more now. He could only imagine how losing someone you loved and your child at the same time would affect someone. Even Massa, a heavily muscular Elite warrior couldn't not be affected by that. John felt for the guy, but John had fought Iketani, and had seen her fight Teyla.

Massa had to be a skilled fighter to be an Elite, but Iketani had fought viciously against Teyla, who John had gathered from various clues, was one of the best Elite warriors. Maybe it was Teyla's mental powers against the Wraith that had given her the upper hand to gain her so many tattoos, and those were just the ones he had seen running down her neck and re-appearing around her waist, but in terms of agility and martial skill she had been superior to Iketani, but still pushed by her. However, maybe fighting for something that meant so much to Massa would give him an edge over Iketani.

Maybe.

John glanced at Teyla beside him, and the line of Elite stretched out beyond her. None of them looked all that confident.

"This can't be a good idea," Ford muttered from the ground to John's right.

John had had to order him to sit down on the sand. They had fashioned a sling out of some strips of fabric they had found falling out of one of the crates, and along with whatever painkiller Kari had given him, Ford was okay for now. He had sworn to John had he wasn't seeing double and wasn't feeling sick, but John was keeping an eye on him. He had to have been unconscious for a good ten minutes by John's reckoning, and it hadn't been due to a stunner shot as Ford could remember slamming the stunner out of Iketani' hand when she had ambushed him. He had seemed rather pleased with himself for that, so John hadn't pointed out that Iketani had then gone on to break his wrist, some of his ribs, and then knock him out. Ford was lucky Iketani hadn't killed him.

Hopefully, Massa was going to be that lucky as well.

John forced himself to relax his shoulders as he watched the two Alliance warriors take their stances opposite each other.

"At my word you will start," Si called through the lifting breeze. Everything went quiet and still. "Begin!"

Massa reacted immediately, swinging his long sword out in a cross strike towards Iketani. Iketani stepped back a pace, turning her body and deflecting the sword's simple swing aside. Massa's knife jabbed in over the sweep, but Iketani sidestepped and blocked that as well. Both stepped back and began circling one another. It had been only a simple testing exchange of blows.

Iketani moved smoothly around their circling, her shoulders lowered, her weapons held at her sides, blades towards Massa.

Massa circled with long heavy steps, each with the weight of his strength and power.

"I am interested," Iketani' words just about carried to John's ears. "You did not challenge Breack. He was most likely the one who slaughtered your Mera and your young." The tone was tilted in that annoying cadence of Iketani', as if it was just short of baiting laughter. She was trying to rattle Massa.

"He was simply the weapon you welded from afar," Massa replied, "as you did the assassins on Athos." The last words were rushed out as he swung at her again.

This time he was not testing. The swing was strong and fast, cutting round and down towards Iketani' shoulder, forcing her to block a blow that would be too heavy for her to meet. She did not even try. As she had done with Teyla, she pulled back the barest of inches to miss the swinging tip of the sword and then threw herself forward at him. She sliced towards his head, but he ducked down and, turning with the momentum of his sword arm to move away. However, he twisted at the last moment and his sword swung up underarm at Iketani with amazing speed.

Iketani pulled her body back, twisting sideways to meet his upward cut with the full weight of her sword. The clash of the meeting weapons was a sharp grinding noise that grated on John's teeth.

Iketani kicked at Massa's closest leg, aiming at his knee. He dipped his leg in time, taking the brunt of her kick just above the joint, but it gave her time to stab round with her knife. Massa thrust his own knife through to meet it, all four blades locking together in a sudden wrestling match of strength. Only Massa's weight was slightly off, as he was still slightly turned, which was giving Iketani some advantage.

Massa growled loudly as he thrust out both his weapons, twisting abruptly straight on to her, using his whole body to power out the blades as he dropped his weight onto his back leg. Iketani went with it, letting him push her away, but she spun sideways, around his back instead of away from him.

John saw blood across Massa's back as Iketani' knife caught him across the upper back, but Massa threw out his arm at her twisting retreat, catching her in the middle with his elbow. She stepped back quickly, away from his sword following along behind his elbow. Massa followed her though, chasing her retreat, swinging his sword back around at her.

She danced aside, and as he sliced quickly back at her, she ducked aside yet again, moving backwards, but she seemed more in control that Massa. His wide angry slices were too obvious and slow so she could easily avoid them. Well, easy for an Elite to avoid, John amended in his head. The action was so fast that he guessed barely a minute had passed since the clash had begun.

Iketani did not remain on the defensive too long.

As she sidestepped another slice, aimed at her middle, she pulled back her elbow and the knife sailed from her hand.

John tensed up as he saw, in disturbingly slow motion, the knife tumble through the air towards Massa's upper chest.

He brought up his own knife in time, but it only just intercepted the throw, and John saw the tip still cut into his arm. Massa didn't let out a cry, he just turned, his arm scattering blood from his thick left forearm and John saw Iketani' knife drop from the wound it had cut into him. The knife was still falling to the ground when Iketani let loose a battle cry and launched herself at Massa.

Massa brought up his sword arm to block her, slicing upwards towards her, but she twisted her body at the last minute, turning as she met his sword with hers. As the swords met, she slammed her fist around the blades and punched at his face. He barely seemed to notice the hit, but then he began to shake and turn, and John saw Iketani' hand clawing at his eyes.

Massa brought his knife sailing round towards Iketani' back as he let out a deep angry roar. Iketani was slightly too slow in response, only just turning aside, unlocking the swords, but Massa's knife followed her.

Dropping her weight down to the left, she just managed to meet his knife with her sword as she fell. She struck his knife hand away as she dropped, heading towards the sandy ground. John saw the opportunity for Massa, and the Elite warrior saw it too, for he brought his sword up to slice down at her. However, he had taken too much time to bring the sword over his head. Before she had even hit the sandy ground, Iketani kicked out as she brought her sword back round. The sharp edge sliced through the top of Massa's left thick thigh.

He cried out in pain and anger, but his sword was now on its downward descent towards Iketani. Barely able to block the strike as it arrived, Iketani managed to meet the sword, stopping it just inches from her face. Massa set his boots solidly and forced all his weight onto his sword, held just barely from cutting down into Iketani' face.

Iketani was straining to hold him at bay and likely she wouldn't have been able to manage it much longer, but she kicked out, both boots catching Massa solidly in the middle and perhaps in his groin, because he lost a lot of his strength abruptly. Iketani twisted at her waist and John saw one boot slam up high, catching Massa solidly under his chin.

Down the line from John, he heard Oneakka grunt worriedly.

Massa however had dropped to one knee, slamming his weight over one of her thighs, pinning her somewhat, but he had lost his full power behind the locked swords, and Iketani was able to start twisting the blades away from directly over her nose.

There was a scrabble and suddenly sand was flying up in Massa's face and Iketani' free knee was hammering up into him as she turned sideways, finally forcing the swords towards the ground and Massa with them if he kept up his same strength behind them. Massa resisted her attempts to twist him to the ground beside her, but Iketani had brought that deadly free leg up between them, jamming her knee under his chest to help her force him further over. Massa, in response, though she threw more sand into his face, ground his weight down onto her leg he had pinned under his weight and John heard Iketani cry out in pain. Nevertheless, physics were against Massa and Iketani was finally able to shove, kick, twist and force him aside and into the dust off her. Massa finally accepted it at the last moment, and rolled quickly off and away from her.

Iketani did the same, rolling away in the other direction, climbing up quickly onto her knees. She thrust herself forward, up onto her feet, but at a right angle to Massa, which allowed her to grab up her fallen knife as she turned and faced him again.

Massa had also found his feet by this point. There was blood on one leg and across his back, but he seemed to be steady. He rushed at Iketani with a loud growl, swinging at her with his heavy sword and the knife swinging over it. Iketani moved sideways, deflected the sword and engaged his knife with her own, but immediately John could see that she wasn't moving as well as before. Massa had hurt her leg, for she was clearly favouring her left leg. However, that didn't seem to stop her throwing herself forward, right up to Massa forcing her body against his and locking his arms across and against his middle. Fortunately, Massa was far stronger than she was, and planted his feet solidly and resisted her push. Iketani pulled back abruptly, causing his weight to stumble forward faintly, and as she moved away, both her weapons were crossing in front of her, both aimed towards Massa's exposed throat. His arms, locked partly against his body by her, were low and he was slower to respond, his weight tilting forward.

Beside him, John heard Teyla's sharp intake of breath, saw her move forward a fraction, as if she could help.

Massa began to turn in the split second he had to defend himself, and he swung himself to one side, forcing his shoulder against Iketani and using his forward momentum that she had caused to knock her physically backwards.

The move saved his throat, just, but sharp blades still met flesh. John literally saw droplets of blood fly out from the falling pair, and he heard Massa's grunt, momentarily before Iketani' grunt as his full weight slammed her to the ground.

John saw Iketani' knife fall from her hand, as she was momentarily stunned by the weight of Massa falling on her, but she slammed her forehead up towards Massa's face. Massa was turned almost on his side, so his nose was saved from some of her blow, but there was blood all over his upper body, leeching down onto her.

The two locked fighters struggled on the ground, throwing sand up around them. John could see Iketani' legs kicking, but it looked like Massa had her good and pinned under his side. Through the rush of dusty sand, some of it blood stained, John could make out Iketani' hair moving, and saw her hand reaching out towards her fallen knife. Blood was coating her pale partly torn sleeve and John saw her fingers inch round the knife handle. Massa's hand slammed out over it, wrestling her with his entire body.

John saw Iketani' hand pull from the knife and from under Massa's grasp, and she reached up and over him instead. John saw her sword lifting beyond Massa, her hand holding it apparently pinned too well for her to use it, but she was attempting to reach over with her free hand for it. Massa seemed to realise this at least and he was suddenly pushing himself up from her. Both his hands were empty, John realised, but he was able to slam a fist into her face, dazing her.

Massa struggled off her in that moment she was incapacitated, and he reached towards his own fallen knife an arm's reach away. Unfortunately, he had lifted too much weight off her, and Iketani brought her knee up and round, hitting him in the shoulder and he let out an almighty shout of pain. As he tumbled sideways, John saw why. Near the top of his right arm, Iketani' two blades had found a target when he had pushed her to the ground. They had sliced into his upper arm, and the wound was open and raw. John was almost certain, even from this distance, that he could see the white of bone in the gaping wound. Massa's right arm was loose against him, blood pouring down it, and it looked pretty much useless.

Iketani, now free of his weight, rolled away, rising up onto one knee, both hands gripping the handle of her sword and she swept it down the short distance to where Massa lay almost curled up in the sand.

He began to turn as he became aware of her approaching killing blow. He rolled onto his back, but then he was suddenly pushing himself round and up at her, around her falling sword and John saw the sparkle of a glittering knife hilt in his hand.

Iketani froze, bent partly over him, her sword tip dug into the ground. She shuddered and the sword fell from her hands.

The line of Elite suddenly broke its line, everyone running forward.

"Stay there," John ordered Ford quickly before he followed.

Iketani fell away from Massa, down onto her side next to him, the knife handle obvious now where it was buried high up in her middle. The black blood pouring out around it told John that her liver was hit and probably a whole lot more.

As John and the Elite neared, Massa struggled up into a kneeling position, his right arm still loose at his side, and he looked down at Iketani as she stared up at him. If Massa said anything to Iketani at that point, John didn't catch it.

By the time John reached the semi circle of Elite around Massa, Iketani was already gone. Her body was slumped against the dry ground, her eyes wide open and entirely empty of life.

Oneakka's hand landed on Massa's uninjured shoulder where he knelt, his back to them all, and John watched Oneakka's fingers tighten. Massa lent forward, his body shaking faintly and John didn't need to see his face to know that he was crying. They were silent tears, but they were there.

An Elite crying.

It was a moment that John knew he would never forget - stood with the Elite in the reddish gold of the alien setting sun, Massa bloodied and victorious, yet deeply wounded.

No one spoke, but as Oneakka dropped his hand from Massa's shoulder, Si put his hand in its place. Each Elite followed suit, each setting their hand, one after another, on Massa's uninjured shoulder before they each moved away, giving him the moment he required. No one said a word.

Kari remained though, knelt silently by Massa's right arm as she began to tend to the horrific injury.

Teyla was the last to touch her hand to Massa's shoulder and, as she turned away, she passed John and met his eyes.

"Now, it is over," she said quietly, her eyes strong, but he could see in her face that she too was deeply touched by what had happened.

John looked from Iketani to Massa. He wasn't sure if it was his place, but he wanted to honour what he had seen and convey everything they all couldn't and wouldn't say.

He stepped forward and laid his hand on Massa's shoulder, where the others had.

It didn't matter that Massa probably didn't realise or care who was touching his shoulder, it was the show of solidarity that meant something.

Having shown his respect, John stepped away and turned back towards the shuttle. The sun was practically falling through the sky now, its golden colours becoming redder with each passing second, and the air was growing colder.

Ford was standing again, Teyla and Si stood with him. The other Elite were heading towards the parked shuttle, but Oneakka was on his way back from it, a large case in one hand, presumably a larger medical kit, and a large folded plastic bag in the other. John knew a body bag when he saw one, and they always sent a chill through him.

"You need a hand?" John offered gesturing back towards where Iketani lay. "Not that I'm saying you're not strong enough to..." John stumbled realising that the offer could been seen as an insult by the big Elite, but it took at least two to carry a body bag and Massa wasn't going to be up to it.

Oneakka gave him a faintly amused smile at the almost insult, and his answer was a vague shrug with a chin lift. John decided that meant yes, so he about turned and fell into step with the man.

They walked back across the sand to where Massa now sat further away from Iketani, as Kari was wrapping up his arm. As Massa rolled Iketani onto her back and pulled out the knife, John busied himself opening up the body bag, forcing his thoughts away from the number of times he had done this before and how many he had had to carry out of a combat zone. Methodically he and Oneakka lifted Iketani into the bag, sealed it shut and lifted it by its strong long handles. Together they then set back across the sand, the bag heavy between them.

As they reached level with Teyla, Ford and Si, they fell into step with them, all together heading towards the shuttle. Si looked back of his shoulder and John did the same to see that Massa was on his feet and following them, Kari close to his side, the medical kit in her hand.

"How're you doing?" John asked Ford, who was walking under his own power, though John noticed that Teyla was keeping closer to Ford's side than she normally did with people.

"Better than some," Ford replied with a grim glance at the bag in John's hands. "They're gonna drop us at the Gate," he added.

John nodded, feeling slightly out of breath at the bag carrying, but also because he felt slightly odd about leaving now to go back to Atlantis. It kind of felt like leaving before the last act. What had happened back on Athos? Was Rhakshar okay? Were Lorne, Woolsey and Martins back in Atlantis? How had the High Council and the Alliance as a whole reacted to what happened to Garthew? He guessed he would hear the answers to all the questions soon enough.

"Great," John replied simply.

They reached the shuttle and John moved ahead with Oneakka, securing the bag in the storage area at the back. The rest of the Elite crowded into the shuttle's seats, Massa letting out a loud heavy breath that spoke of a lot of pain as he settled into his seat. John headed for a free seat near the door, beside Ford and opposite Teyla. Si closed up the door, shutting out the breezy cold air of the alien planet, and sealing them into the more comfortable warmth of the shuttle.

Through the small window in the sealed door, John watched the landscape fall away below them, before the shuttle angled away, flying low over the terrain. They would be at the Gate in no time.

John turned back to Teyla sat across from him and Ford. "What happens now? For Atlantis?" He asked. The Elite were talking among themselves, though Massa looked like he was half-unconscious and Oneakka had his eyes closed.

"The Elite will make it clear who is to blame for what happened today," she replied. She looked tired John realised, but then, he guessed he would hardly look alert and well right now. It had been a long and stressful day for them, but especially for Teyla. "My father and others who know and trust Atlantis will speak the truth of Atlantis' involvement."

John nodded, but a strange sense of worry was plaguing him now. With the hunt for Iketani, he had been able to set aside the worries that Atlantis had been implicated in the assassination of Garthew and the attack on Teyla's family. Problem was, despite all the evidence in their favour, John suspected the High Council and others might choose to see the negative. After all, a man dressed in an Atlantis uniform had murdered one of the High Council.

"One thing is clear today," Teyla continued, "The ties between the Elite and Atlantis are even stronger."

Beside her, John saw Oneakka nodding and across the shuttle, Si met John's gaze with a level look that John thought was agreement.

"We were happy to help out, and we're grateful for you believing in us," John said to the whole, feeling a little uncomfortable, but he felt it had to be said. After all, this might be the last time he met up with the Elite. He hoped it wouldn't be.

"Atlantis fought well alongside us," Si replied as if it was that simple. To the Elite it was, and for that John was grateful.

He smiled and nodded, aware that the shuttle was losing altitude. A glance through the window showed the Gate below. The pilot executed a nice tight turn and brought the shuttle down a short distance from the Gate. There was no one else around, night having fallen on Milioc Primary.

Teyla unlocked and tugged open the shuttle's door and cold air once again rushed in from outside. The shuttle's engines were kicking up the air as John helped Ford out of the shuttle as subtly as he could, before following himself. Teyla had stepped out to assist Ford too, but one of her hands remained on the door. She had to leave now, and John had many Elite eyes on him.

"We'll see you soon," John called to her through the turbulent air, one hand on Ford's good arm to keep him steady.

Teyla gave him a solid nod, but as he moved past her, feeling somewhat denied a proper goodbye, her hand touched his arm with a solid grip. He looked round at her, and she smiled and nodded again. It seemed to communicate that she was proud of him, though he didn't know how he knew that, but to soon her hand lifted away and she was climbing back inside the shuttle.

A sharp sad feeling cut through John as he and Ford moved quickly away from the shuttle, the air rushing up louder as it began to take off. Wide low flowerbeds set around the Gate all vibrated, plants waving and soil falling loose, as the shuttle rose up higher and then rushed overhead.

John watched it rise up quickly through the dark sky and promised himself that everything was going to be okay with the Alliance. It had to be.

"We've got to get one of those," Ford muttered from beside him.

It snapped John out of his wistfulness. "I still prefer a Jumper," he replied as he led them towards the DHD.

"Lot more room in their one," Ford replied. John couldn't help but notice that Ford appeared to be feeling his wounds more than before. Without Elite eyes on him, he was succumbing to what had to be a lot of pain.

"How're you doing?" John asked as he began entering the address into the DHD.

"Better than Massa looked," Ford replied, his own face looking somewhat bloodless.

John nodded, that wound hadn't looked good, but then Massa had the best of medical care up on the Sythus. John wondered if Alliance medicine had saved Rhakshar.

The wormhole burst to life ahead of them, and a wave of tiredness struck John abruptly. It had been a very long day.

"Let's go home," he said as he reached out to help Ford walk across the short distance to the waiting trip home to Atlantis.

0000  
>TBC<p> 


	31. Legacy

**Note: **Happy Christmas everyone! I wanted to get one chapter out before the big day. I suspect there to be four more chapters to this fic left to go. I have two almost ready and they should be out at the start of next week, and I'm hoping the last two around the New Year weekend. Either way, this fic should be done in under 2 weeks! That's my plan. I hope everyone has a fantastic Elite Christmas, love Wedj xx

**Chapter 31 – Legacy**

0000

A soft warbling sound drew Teyla partly from her slumber. From the deep, heavy sleep, she began to drift up into consciousness, yet, in that state, she was aware of the silence around her; that the sound that had woken her had not repeated. There was no blare of an emergency alarm or repetitive buzzing of the communications system, so she allowed herself to slip back down into a soft comfortable snooze.

In that half state of consciousness, her mind lingered through intense memories of yesterday. Flashes of recalled moments replaying in brief vivid detail; anxiously watching the fight between Massa and Iketani; the smothering sensation of the dark water into which she had dived; and the rush of gusting air as she watched John and Lieutenant Ford move away from the shuttle.

In the moments in which she drifted too deep into her slumber, she lost herself into the memories, her body twitching with muscle memory and instinctive reaction to a remembered approaching strike of Iketani' knife. And more pleasant moments recalled; The warmth of John's arm under her hand as she had said goodbye to him in the darkening cool night air of Milioc Primary. It had been a short and unsettlingly unsatisfying parting.

Yet, now, she lingered in that moment, on that brief touch and all she had felt. Her admiration for his fighting skills and bravery against Iketani, her respect for his insistence in joining the hunt, and the attraction of his strong tall lean body, wrapped in wet clinging fabric.

In the surreal replay, she imagined his clothing altered. He was no longer dressed in the dark damp clothes of Atlantis, but in strong sculpted body armour worn by so many Elite. He moved with her into the shuttle, the dark tattoo she had gifted him now encompassing his entire bared shoulder, the long spiralling designs trailing down his toned arm. She reached out towards the strong lines, feeling bare skin under her fingertips this time, and felt the flush of arousal throughout her body, and this time she fully embraced it.

The warble repeated and broke through her dream, snapping her mind out of wistful fantasy, and she abruptly recognised the sound as a message announcement. Her thoughts clarifying, reality now completely reasserting itself, the dreams slid away like mist in the sunrise, and she opened her heavy eyes to the ceiling of her Training Facility quarters.

The Sythus had reached the facility in short time yesterday, delivering Massa to the medical expertise he had required, and for them to report Iketani' capture and death to the Alliance. In the hours aboard the Sythus beforehand, Teyla had not rested. She had not wanted to sleep, so instead she had eaten with her fellow warriors and then returned to her ship's quarters only to sit and write her report. It was only once they had reached the Training Facility and reports transferred over, that Teyla had finally allowed herself to stop. She had entered her sparse quarters here and had finally removed her clothes and released her hair from its confinement. A long warm shower had helped but had also emphasised her tiredness. She had resisted sleep longer though until she had sent a message to Athos, reporting to Father the outcome of her hunt, and enquiring how Rhakshar and her family fared.

Realising that the message announcement now might very well be Father's response, Teyla forced her heavy body upright and swung her legs over the side of her low bed. Out of habit, she looked round for Ketra, so used to their early morning ritual of the dragon nestling up to her in greeting, but, of course, Ketra was still back on Athos. Teyla was certain Father would have seen that Ketra had been supplied with food and water, but Teyla felt Ketra's absence strongly this morning. She was eager to return to Athos, and was relieved that she could return to her family and people with the knowledge that Iketani had been held to account for her actions against them.

She looked up towards the large communications screen set into the wall opposite the bed, but she did to reach out to activate it yet. If the message was from Father, it would contain Rhakshar's status. For so long Teyla had grown used to her suspicious thoughts of Rhakshar, but yesterday she had seen his true worth, had seen him pull Zabetha aside as he had stepped in harm's way for her.

How could she have been so wrong about him? How had her proven instincts and intuition failed her so profoundly?

She had treated him with nothing but indifferent politeness laced with constant suspicion.

What if he had been killed saving Zabetha?

Teyla had faced failure many times in battle, but she had never failed a person so directly before. It felt unknown, uncomfortable, and unsettling.

Would Zabetha forgive her if Rhakshar had died?

However, sitting overly worrying like a politician was not going to achieve anything. She was being weak by shying away from knowledge she had sought out from Father.

She reached across the narrow distance to the screen and tapped it into activity. The message's origin was listed clearly – it was from Father. She triggered it to run.

Father's face filled the screen, his face appearing tired, but she did not think it was with an expression of grief.

"_Daughter, I am grateful for your swift message to us and the news of the resolution of what happened here today."_

His formal language told Teyla that he had been talking frequently with others via communications, and perhaps had others in the room with him.

"_I am pleased to report that Rhakshar's surgery went very well, he was very fortunate. He is already awake and the surgeon expects him to be able to leave the clinic tomorrow. Zabetha would have it otherwise though," _he added with a tired but soft smile. _"She has barely left his side and she will likely enforce the healer's instructions to him to take things very easy for the next few weeks."_

Father glanced aside as if someone had drawn his attention. He looked back into the screen and smiled.

"_I have been talking almost all day with the Military Enforcers, the High Council, and other system leaders." _He paused, restraining extra information he clearly wanted to tell her, but was choosing not to just yet. Teyla wondered if he distrusted those who were listening in the room with him or the security of communications system itself.

"_We will talk more when you return, and do not fear, I have made sure that Ketra is well cared for,"_ he added with a smile, which Teyla found herself smiling in return to the message.

"_I will see you soon, Daughter,"_ Father added with a smile, _"May the Ancestors walk with you."_

The message ended and Teyla let out a sigh of relief. Rhakshar was recovering well it seemed. Teyla would visit him as soon as she returned to Tjaru. There was much to say to the man who had stood in the way of a bullet for her sister.

For now though, she needed to rise and finalise things in the facility. She dressed, braided back her hair, slid her swords into their place on her back, and proceeded out into the hallways of the facility.

The atmosphere of the Training Facility had been somewhat subdued when they had arrived late yesterday. By the final count, seven recruits had been killed by Iketani' poison, along with Breack, but those who had not eaten enough of the deadly stew were all recovering well enough now. As such, the medical wing of the facility was considerably busier than normal as Teyla entered it. Young inexperienced eyes turned to her. Most of them nodded to her as she passed the ends of the long line of occupied beds, and from their expressions she gathered that the story of Iketani' capture and eventual death had already been spread among the recruits.

Teyla did not stop to speak to them though, she kept moving, out of the main area and through the clinic towards the surgical recovery bays where Massa would be recovering from his surgery. However, as she stepped around the dividing panel, his bed was empty. The bedcovers had been pushed aside, the pillow crumpled from a sleeping head, but Massa himself had gone. His clothes and weapons remained though, piled to one side. It was their presence alone that told her that Massa intended to return to his bed, but the mattress felt cool to the touch, which meant that he had been away from his rest for some time. He had been in surgery last night – he should be resting, even if he was an Elite warrior. Elite, more than any other warriors, knew the importance of recovering properly from an injury. Wraith could sense physical weakness like it was a taste in the air that drew them to feed.

She exited Massa's recovery bay, and turned on the spot, considering where he might have gone. A nurse, who had been heading through to the clinic, paused.

"Honoured Elite, I believe I saw Honoured Elite Massa heading that way some time ago," she supplied, indicating the far doorway that led to the surgery theatres and further clinic rooms.

Teyla inclined her head in thanks and made her way through the indicated door. She passed several usually unused rooms, but today they were filled with more recovering recruits. She nodded to them and continued onwards. The look of bright admiration in their eyes made her somewhat uncomfortable this morning.

Next she passed the windows looking into the surgery theatres, but they were empty, except for in one where a procedure was being performed on a leg injury. Teyla continued on, Massa still worryingly absent, until she came upon the main exit to the medical wing. From here, there were only two doors to choose from – one led out into a corridor that left the wing, whilst the other door led to the juvenile medical area.

A worrying thought niggled at Teyla, so she triggered open the door to the juvenile clinic.

As soon as she entered, she knew she had chosen the right direction. Two nurses were stood at a desk across from her, their attention directed to the far right, tense watchful concern on their faces. One looked round as Teyla entered and Teyla saw the concern shift to relief as the woman headed forward to meet her.

"Honoured Elite," the nurse greeted her. "He arrived some time ago. He says he wants to be left alone with the babe."

Teyla nodded her understanding as she made her way past small bays towards the nurses' station. The Elite considered anyone younger than sixteen yearly cycles to be juveniles, but even up until that age, they would still be training and sparring. The juvenile clinic might be somewhat smaller than the main medical area, but it was still in regular use. All ages could be cared for here, though the very young were rarely seen in the base unless they were Elite young, cared for here whilst their parents trained and/or taught in the facility. A small area of the wing was therefore sectioned off for the youngest of babes.

Currently there was only occupant of a crib in that area - Aki, Iketani' abandoned son.

It was by that crib that Mass stood, looking down into it with an unreadable, yet strained expression.

Teyla was almost certain that Massa would do nothing to harm the babe, but now that she knew the true depth of his loss in the past, the significance of this struck her profoundly.

She held still and watched him for a few moments. His right arm was entirely wrapped up in bandages and supported in a sling that held it tight to his side. There were further signs of bandages under his medical clothing, one around his left thigh and a covering over his upper back. There were various connections taped to his free arm, which were presumably supposed to be connected to various drips and medications back in his recovery bay, but he had freed himself from all that support and walked through the long corridors to get here.

He looked drawn, tired, and stood as still as any stone statue Teyla had seen.

"All is well," Teyla said quietly to the nurses, her eyes locked on Massa. "I will speak to him about returning to his bed to rest." She knew their concern was more about Aki' safety, but Teyla was more concerned over Massa, as she was almost certain he would never harm Aki.

The nurses followed her lead though and nodded, angling away to look busy elsewhere.

Once relatively alone, Teyla moved forward quietly. Everything was quieter in the juvenile area, though admittedly there were far fewer patients in it compared to the main medical area. The walls were brightly painted here, the murals of a variety of landscapes from different worlds, stretching out in different directions. Around the beds, there were toys and colouring books, and only here would such luxury fun items be found. The Training Facility existed to instruct Elite, of all ages, and even play was designed to teach fighting skills and tactics. However, in here, especially where the youngest of young stayed, more pleasing toys existed. Though, in Elite minds, even brightly coloured building blocks were appreciated as a good way to teach early coordination and to train the eye.

Teyla did not quieten her steps as she neared Massa, knowing he was aware of her presence though he did not acknowledge her as she reached his side. Stood next to him, Teyla looked down into the crib to where little Aki lay fast asleep. He seemed to have noticeably grown even in the short number of days since she had last seen him. He was tucked up securely among bright sky blue bedding, his soft baby breathing the only sound to be heard in the empty space around her and Massa.

Teyla could not help but smile as she watched Aki sleeping, his tiny mouth open a fraction and moving faintly with his earliest of dreams. He was a healthy babe with no complications noted following his 'birth' at the Unspoken Clinic. Most children born that way, from an artificial womb, grew as any normal child, but sometimes there were complications with breathing during their first days. Fortunately, Aki was a healthy strong baby. A babe whose mother had been a traitor and who had left him in the Unspoken Clinic with no interest in him, other than to one day use his existence as blackmail material against his father, High Councillor Telson. Telson already had an extensive family and there was no place for Aki in that life, not that the Elite would have handed over Aki to him. Telson had worked with Iketani in her bid for power, and though he had assisted the Elite when pushed, they did not trust him. They had agreed to let him visit Aki occasionally, but he would not be allowed to influence the boy's upbringing. Telson had been allowed to name his youngest son, for which he had chosen Aki in honour of an uncle. Telson had yet to see Aki, but likely the first visit would be soon. Teyla planned to be present when it occurred.

Teyla glanced at Massa, stood so still and silent beside her. No doubt he was thinking over the fact that his and Mera's young should have been sleeping in one of these cribs, a new Elite life with so much potential. That life had been stolen away though, and only Massa was left of that family unit, stood alone looking down at the one remaining part of Iketani that lived on. Perhaps in all that Iketani had done and shaped in her cunning greedy way, Aki was at least something good. Teyla hoped Massa felt the same.

Massa shifted slightly beside her. "I will raise the boy," he stated, his tone of one prepared for an argument.

Teyla did not reply immediately, she instead glanced at him, waiting for him to look round at her. He was clenching his jaw, his face seeming so tired, so full of the struggles he had been through.

"You cannot replace your lost young," Teyla told him quietly, keeping her tone soft and allowing more emotion in her voice than she would with anyone else. If anytime was right to show compassion, this was it.

Massa closed his eyes as he nodded sharply. "I know that," he replied in an equally low voice, strain biting around the edges. "I can never hold my child, it is gone, with Mera." He swallowed as he opened his eyes. "I have honoured them as best I could."

"You honoured them," Teyla confirmed.

"He will need someone," Massa said.

Teyla knew the argument he would use, so she carefully interrupted him. "She is gone Massa, taking her son as your own will not extend your revenge against her. That is no way for a child to be raised." She knew the words could be seen as harsh, but this was a vital moment and she would not let emotion rule it for him.

Massa looked round at her.

"This is not about revenge," he told her, his voice still low, but emphatic. "He is Iketani' young, he will forever be. Do you not think that will follow him all his days? That every Elite, every warrior, won't look at him with suspicious eyes, waiting to see if he will be as she was?"

She had worried about the very same issues. Would Aki forever live in the dark shadow of his mother's betrayal?

"He will not be as she was," Teyla replied, hoping that it really was the truth, "The Elite will see to it."

"Yes, I will," Massa responded.

Teyla studied his face. "How will that be any different for him? To have a new father who demands honour from him as if it were a punishment."

Massa frowned at her. "He is an innocent," he replied, gesturing down into the crib with his working arm. "I will _not_ let Iketani hurt another child, I will see him raised as she and I were not. With care, with…love." He looked away, down into the crib again, swallowing with emotion that was seething beneath the surface. "The way Mera would have cared for our child."

Elite did not speak of love, unless it was love of battle, but it was there among them as Teyla had realised so profoundly yesterday. She had a great love for her fellow Elite, those special few in particular that she cared for as family. She looked down into the crib at the latest of the Elite family. Most Elite were raised by Elite instructors, and love had never been a strong part of that, they were trained as warriors from the first day they entered this facility.

"One day this boy will ask who killed his mother," Massa continued, "Though she deserved to die for what she did to me, I still took her from him."

"Iketani left him in the Unspoken Clinic on Pravis," Tyela replied, "we both know she never looked back. She took only a genetic sample with her, to one day use against Telson, but she never once asked after Aki' development in the clinic. Only those wishing to leave their child to fate did as she did."

"It does not matter," Massa replied. "His life has already been shaped by violence, manipulation and neglect. He deserves more than that."

Teyla frowned at Massa's profile. She had not expected such emotional insight from him, such deep moving arguments that told her just how much he had been thinking of this.

"Unless you take him far from Alliance territory, the legacy of his mother will follow him always," Teyla said carefully.

"But that legacy will end. With him and me, we can end it," Massa replied.

Teyla pondered his thinking.

Massa looked round to her again, his gaze direct and forceful.

"I know the others may fear for his safety with me, or that he may one day seek revenge on me," he said, clearly aware of the politics of this choice. "His mother harmed me more than anyone else who lives, but if I can raise Aki, I will show him that he bears none of her betrayal. And I will serve as his guardian as compensation for taking his mother from him, for whatever reason. He and I are already joined by fate."

Teyla held his gaze, moved by his words and his honourable heart.

"Are you certain that you want to give your life to this as compensation for what you did?" she asked. "Is that right for him?"

Massa glanced down towards his right arm and back. "I will not fight in battle again, the damage is extensive."

Teyla was barely able to control her surprise and sympathy for him at the news.

"They tell me I will regain the use of my arm, but I will not be as I was. I plan instead to assist here, in training new recruits, and that will give me time to raise Aki as well. I still have much to offer the Elite."

"Of course you do," Teyla replied immediately.

Many Elite were injured severely in battle, and those who could not return to battle worked in any number of other ways for the Elite. In training, communications, tactics, planning, and so much more. It was said that the only time an Elite was without use was when they were dead. Even then, all Elite who fell were remembered. A wall listing all the names of the fallen had pride of place in the facility. It exhibited the legacy of Sythus and Hastos, showing all to see the honourable sacrifice and life purpose of all Elite warriors. The names were an unending chain of courage and skill, dedicated to the protection of their people. An Elite warrior honoured that life with every breath, even if they could no longer fight the Wraith directly on the battlefield anymore.

"I will raise him here, the best I can," Massa continued.

"And you have many of us to assist you, Massa," Teyla added.

Massa looked back to her with emotional eyes. Teyla set her hand on his uninjured arm and smiled up at him.

"I will speak to the others for you," she told him. "You are already the most honourable of warriors and you will be the most honourable of fathers."

Massa smiled sadly at her. He had been through so much, but hopefully now, despite his injury and recovery, he could move forward, and Aki would have a father who had only the highest of ideals for him. On hearing his arguments, Teyla saw no reason why the others would not agree to Massa's request. In fact, it would reduce the burden on the nursery staff in the facility for Aki to have someone specific to care for him.

She squeezed Massa's arm briefly before she turned to leave him in peace. "Make sure that you rest," she paused to remind him. "You must recover fully in order to care properly for Aki."

Massa nodded his agreement before she turned away, and Teyla suspected that he would duly complete his physical therapy, for he was finally now a father, wishing the most for his young.

"Thank you," Massa said to her back.

She looked back round at him, but he was already looking away, smiling down at the sleeping Aki.

It was the first proper smile she had seen from him in a very long time.

0000

A strong mug of coffee in his hand, John pulled back the conference room chair and settled down into it. Beside him, Ford was still looking a little worse for wear, his forearm in a cast and a large while cover across his forehead injury. However, they were both all the better for having had a full night's sleep. Not that John had had a deep dreamless sleep. He suspected that Iketani would appear in a few of his nightmares to come. He wondered if Ford felt the same, but he didn't ask.

Across the table, Rodney was sat quietly, for a change, but then most of the city had felt subdued this morning. Woolsey had been given the location of Donovan's team's remains by one of the assassins back on Athos, and a team had recovered the shallowly buried bodies. Four good soldiers killed for their uniforms, uniforms used to implicate Atlantis for the attacks on Athos and the Alliance High Council. There was no positive lining to what had happened. Donovan's team had been taken down from a distance, killed dishonourably without any care or meaning, and everyone in the city felt it.

Colonel Sumner was clearly still angry about yesterday. As he arrived in the conference room, he roughly tugged out his chair and sat down, the chair faintly squeaking under his grumpy weight. He set a folder in front of him, presumably containing reports, and his own mug of strong smelling coffee was set down beside it.

John was especially glad he had gotten his report completed and sent to Sumner first thing this morning. Presumably, someone would be typing up Ford's report for him, or maybe he would type it with his other hand.

Colonel Carter entered the conference room a moment later, heading straight for the head of the strangely arranged Ancient table system. As always, despite the gravity of a situation, she smiled at them all as she sat down.

While John and Ford had been out hunting Iketani with the Elite, Colonel Carter had made an official visit to Athos to meet with Torren yesterday evening. It had apparently gone well, if the rumour mill this morning was anything to go by, but she had only gotten late last night, long after John and Ford had returned so he hadn't heard any feedback yet. He imagined that Torren and Carter had gotten on well, both of them being leaders who could smooth over difficulties and quickly find middle ground.

"Morning, everyone," she greeted them and her smile settled on John and Ford beside him. "It's good to have you both back."

John nodded slightly uncomfortably. When he and Ford had gotten back last night, he had expected to be reprimanded for having essentially run off with the Elite to hunt down Iketani. However, with Carter off the city, Sumner had been the one to greet him, and it had only been with questions of success. Sumner had actually seemed pleased at John's quick report about Milioc, and, for once, John had seen nothing but respect in the man's expression before he waved John into the Infirmary along with Ford. John hadn't needed any medical attention, but Carson had insisted. A quick scan had confirmed that Iketani hadn't broken any of his ribs, unlike her attack on Ford.

"Happy to be back," John replied. Yet, it wasn't entirely true. He felt frustratingly disconnected away from what was happening in the Alliance. What had happened to Rhakshar? Was the High Council declaring war on Atlantis this very moment?

"I've only managed to skim your detailed report, Major, but well done both of you. I think, all things considered, we avoided a very desperate situation yesterday. If it wasn't for your swift action, things may have turned out much worse."

"Does that mean the Alliance isn't going to declare war on us?" Rodney asked.

Carter gave him a faint smile. "It doesn't look like it. As you know, I met yesterday evening with Leader Torren, and several other political figures who were still in the Athosian Governing complex. For now, it seems that the case will be well made for the true culprit to be blamed, though gathering from your report, Major, she is now dead, which hopefully won't alter matters for us."

"The Elite didn't seem to think it would," John replied, somewhat hopefully.

Carter nodded as she clasped her hands together. "That they have the assassins clearly identified, and the Elite have confirmed that Iketani was the one to hire them, for now, the High Council cannot directly blame us for what happened. It's fortunate for us that the attack occurred on Athos, because if it had been on any other world, one with which we hadn't already been establishing good relations, and which wouldn't be lead by such strong calm leadership as Torren, I believe the outcome would have been disastrous. For now, the evidence on our side and enough respect and support from Torren and those close to him, it seems clear that we won't officially be blamed for what happened. However, it is clear that this will not have won us any new votes within the Alliance. Torren feels that those who would already have been against involvement and talks with us, will now use this situation to their advantage."

"But you said the assassins were clearly from the Alliance and hired by Iketani," Rodney protested. "I don't see how they can blame us for what was clearly an internal problem of theirs."

"A case could perhaps be made that we arranged it that way," Carter replied playing devil's advocate.

"And what then saved three of the targets ourselves?" Rodney replied confused.

"Maybe we staged it that way," John replied bitterly, knowing that twisted thinking would no doubt be used by some against Atlantis.

Rodney's face twisted up in disbelief, but had yet to splutter a reply.

"Regards as to how some parties may twist the facts," Colonel Carter continued. "For now, I am in agreement with Torren's suggestion that we will keep to our former plans to establish trade with Athos, and through them other worlds."

John was deeply relieved. Some may have made the case that Atlantis should pull back and away from the Alliance, but fortunately, Carter and Torren saw it differently.

"We've been invited back to Athos tomorrow, and Mr Woolsey is now confirming with the IOA what exactly we can offer in trade. It will be best if we can get the trading ball rolling as quickly as possible."

John nodded, wondering if he could ask directly if he could join Woolsey tomorrow.

"So, for now, we're going to keep going as we were with the Alliance," Carter reiterated. She dropped her gaze to her hands briefly. "We will be holding the services for Donovan, Saints, Brown and Gibbons this afternoon. Colonel Sumner has already ensured that their families have been informed." Sumner nodded beside her. "The priority for the rest of the day and likely tomorrow as well, will be to see the rest of the evacuees off the city. Despite what happened to our team, the evacuation went as well as can be expected and with very few injuries considering the large numbers of people we were able to move."

"Where are the Wraith headed now?" John asked.

"The Hive and cruisers have re-entered hyperspace, but interestingly, they seem to be heading around Alliance territory, for that Wraith system the Elite told us about," Carter replied.

"More of them gathering into the nest," Sumner muttered.

"At least that means they won't be attacking another planet on the way," Ford said.

"True, but there are two more sets of Wraith cruisers that we are still keeping a very close eye one," Carter replied. "One group will be stopping far too close to our neck of the woods, and the other close to the Denarians. We've informed them already, but their underground cave system usually protects them from the worse of cullings."

John felt his heart drop a little further. One crisis over and there was just another waiting to take its place.

"That's hardly the best thing to do," Rodney argued.

Carter lifted her hand. "I'm sending two teams out after the services today, to talk with the Denarian leaders further, help them see how significant this culling could be. If it comes to it, we'll offer some rooms here to those who wouldn't be able to reach the caves in time."

"How long until the Wraith reach them?" John asked.

"We're predicting in three day's time, so we've got a little leeway," she replied. Her gaze remained on him. "However, I'd like you to return to Athos with Mr Woolsey tomorrow." John kept a tight grip on the relief and pleasure that provoked. It was unlikely Teyla would be there, but he still wanted to go back to Athos.

Carter smiled at him. "It seems that you have a fan for life in Torren," she told him. "But then you did save his family."

"I would have done the same for anyone," he replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. It wasn't a lie, but he did feel more because he had helped protect Teyla's family. Torren, Charin and Zabetha were good people and it was his job to protect innocents.

"Of course," Carter replied immediately, "But I don't think we can ignore the good ties you have built up with Athos and the Elite. So, if you're willing, I think you can add the title of ambassador to your CV."

John didn't quite groan, but the wince conveyed enough for Carter to chuckle at him.

"You should be flattered, Major. Between the two of you, you and Mr Woolsey are forging strong ties for us, not just with the Athosians, but with the Elite."

"It seems to me that we need to keep those links the strongest," Sumner piped in. "The Elite could help sway the Alliance Military's opinion of us."

"For now, it's not the Military that we should be worried about," John replied immediately, only realising that he might be speaking out of turn, but he forged on, after all he was supposed to be an ambassador of sorts now. He didn't point out to his superiors that the Elite themselves didn't have ambassadors only 'people of significance', or however Teyla had worded it.

"The Elite and the Military Council are pretty clear on who was to blame," John continued. "It's the High Council's likely twist on things that will be the potential problem."

"I'm not sure how we can influence that, other than keeping to our plans to form strong trading ties, as Torren himself suggested, and good relations with the Elite," Colonel Carter replied.

"I agree," John replied, feeling secure in his knowledge of this at least. "What Iketani did was involve our name in something that's been simmering under the surface of Alliance politics for a long while."

"The corruption within the High Council?" Carter asked.

John nodded, his attention slipping to the warm mug in his hand. "It's not a problem that we can solve or even involve ourselves."

"Then it's with the Military that we need to form our ties," Sumner repeated into the discussion, not seeming all that put out that John was so involved in the conversation. It seemed that on the subject of the Alliance and the Elite, Sumner was willing to admit John's opinions were worth hearing.

"You think we should approach the Military separately?" Carter asked Sumner with interest.

"Seems to me that the High Council and the Military Council are going to be at loggerheads soon enough. I know which side I'd put my money," Sumner replied simply, his gruff voice full of a confidence John wished he shared.

Carter looked back at John. "Any ideas on how best to do that, Major?"

A little surprised at the direct question, John looked back down to his mug as he considered his answer. "I don't see why we couldn't talk directly with the Elite," he replied as he looked back to his intently listening superior. "I've interacted with a good handful-"

"You mean, had your butt kicked by them," Ford uttered quickly and quietly at his side.

John ignored the comment and continued, though the point was somewhat valid.

"I suspect that they would be open to exchange intell again, maybe we could even in the future work together against the Wraith in a particular area."

Carter nodded.

"There are three Elite who are Athosian," John continued, "Through Torren we might be able to arrange to talk with them."

"Emmagan being the most likely," Carter added as she nodded. John tensed slightly wondering if there was any innuendo in that, but he didn't see any sparkle in her eyes. He was almost certain that Ford would have sent him a teasing expression though.

"But, I don't think they'll be wanting to trade regularly in intel. Only as and when," John clarified.

Carter nodded thoughtfully.

"There is Elkaska," John considered. "He's Torren's brother-in-law and a freelance trader, trading anything as far as I can gather. He has a military background and he does trade in weapons and technology for the Elite from time to time. He's already interested in our coffee and chocolate," John added.

"I remember you mentioned him in your previous reports," Carter replied. "Sounds a good avenue to pursue for trading anyway. See if he's still on Athos tomorrow and we can go from there."

John nodded.

"Perhaps you can also talk with Emmagan, or any other military figure on Athos tomorrow, learn the lay of the land in any potential relationships outside of the trading agreement with Athos," Carter concluded. John tensed against the relationships comment, but Carter was looking away, again with no hint of knowing. It was all in John's head he realised. Not that he had a relationship with Teyla, well, other than friend and occasional person to fight alongside.

"Unless there's any other business, let's get on with getting these evacuees somewhere safe and prepare for the afternoon's service," Carter concluded.

John leant forward slightly. "Did you hear how Rhakshar's doing?" He asked her.

Her eyes softened as she smiled. "Torren mentioned that he was out of surgery and was doing well."

John nodded, pleased. Rhakshar had saved Zabetha's life, and John was grateful that the guy was okay, and would still get the girl at the end of it. John wondered if the marriage ceremony had gone ahead at Rhakshar's hospital bedside, or if it had been postponed.

Carter called an end to the meeting and everyone rose and began filing out of the room, but John held back, swallowing down the last remains of his coffee.

He was relieved that he would be getting back to Athos tomorrow, and perhaps more in the future, now he was so officially involved. He didn't want to get involved with the negotiations though, that wasn't in his skill set, but he had handled all the previous visits to Athos okay. At least it might mean that he could get involved with the Elite more, through Teyla and Athos. Woolsey could handle the boring trading stuff, and he could talk military.

Tomorrow's visit would be the start of some detailed trading meetings though, which wouldn't be all that interesting for him, but there was a chance that Teyla might be back on Athos again soon. She would want to visit her family, to check on them and Rhakshar. He wondered how she was feeling about the guy now he had saved her sister's life. Would she stay longer for the delayed wedding before heading off again on the Sythus?

Either way, an idea had formed in his mind this morning, a promise he had made days ago to her. Promising to help her out with a small tricky Ketra related situation in Tjaru, and he was pretty sure he knew how to now. It would take a trip down to the botany lab to arrange it, which he could do later once the services were over. It would help him get through the day to focus on tomorrow, especially if he got to see Teyla at least once more before she disappeared off into the stars with the other Elite to fight the most dangerous of battles.

He hated the idea that the last time he might see her was yesterday's brief parting, half out of a shuttle, the wind and engine sounds loud, Elite eyes on them, and tiredness overwhelming him.

He desperately wanted to see her at least one more time, to say a proper goodbye before she disappeared from his life again.

As he walked through the empty conference room towards the exit, he wondered if, this possibly being his last chance to see her, that perhaps he could express a little more of how he felt about her. Would it be too much to risk a kiss on her cheek at least? Would an Elite allow that? Had he correctly read the subtle signs and significant moments shared, all compounded on what he was almost certain was a strong mutual attraction?

If she was going to be there tomorrow, it might be the last chapter in his interaction with her and therefore his last chance to make his move and see if he was right about the mutual attraction.

00000  
>TBC<p> 


	32. Honesty

**Note: **Happy New Year's Eve everyone. I apologise for the lack of posting this week – it's been beyond busy. I had planned this section of the story to be one chapter, but it turned out FAR too long, so I've had to split it into two, so here's the first chapter, second one should hopefully be posted tomorrow or Monday. It looks like only three more chapters then to go… Happy 2012 everyone! Wedj xxx

**Note2:** Apologies to Pdelae here as, sorry Hun, I have had no time to write this week, so no Elf fic chapter for you this week, but I plan to get these last chapters done and focus on Baby Sheppard for you then ) Hope that's okay.

**Chapter 32 – Honesty**

000000

The medical clinic within the Athosian Governing Buildings was small in comparison to the Elite's Training Facility's advanced medical wing. The clinic provided medical care for the entire complex staff and any visitors, the clinic's healers working on rotation from the main hospitals of Tjaru and beyond. There were facilities for minor and major operations that anyone within the complex might require, and considering that often some of the Alliance's most important representatives might be staying in the complex, it was important that only the best care was available. Surgeons were not stationed in the clinic, but were on call from the hospitals to attend the clinic at any time day or night. With visitors with varying health concerns, and the usual standard injuries easily acquired by guards, gardeners, kitchen staff or bantos trainers the clinic maintained a reasonable steady business. However, it was rarely busy, and that was the same today.

From the main entrance to the clinic, Teyla could see only four patients. Two were seated in the tiny waiting area immediately to her left, where they would be waiting to be seen by a nurse. One of the patients was a gardener, who sat with a dried blood soaked bandage wrapped tight around her hand. As the doors closed quietly behind Teyla, the nurse called the gardener into a clinic room, leaving the remaining patient. The man looked round sharply at Teyla's appearance, and his clothes and military straight back told her he was one of the Xinda representative's bodyguards. The man's complexion was drawn and pale, and Teyla spied tissues overflowing out of his jacket pocket. However, his response was still alert, and he looked instantly concerned when an Elite walked into a room. Teyla nodded calmly to him, letting him know that there was nothing to be concerned about. He relaxed instantly, settling back down into his seat, and he nodded respectfully back, only to abruptly start coughing. Teyla moved away, allowing him to struggle with his coughing fit without an Elite audience.

The right side of the clinic was given to two lines of beds, of which only two were filled. Though Teyla could not see who lay in the beds due to the privacy screens set up around them, she knew they were two of the guards who had been injured yesterday. Father said that both were stable, but would be in the clinic for at least another week.

"Honoured Elite," a nurse said as she approached from Teyla's left. She was a relatively familiar face in the clinic, having personally attended to some of Teyla's past small wounds.

"Greetings, I am here to see Rhakshar," Teyla explained, for it was likely that the nurse would jump to the conclusion that Teyla was here with an injury of her own.

The nurse nodded and smiled. "Of course. He is in one of the private rooms," she replied. "I shall take you to him."

Teyla knew the way of course, having not too long ago stayed in one of the private rooms herself following her stab wound. Teyla had not stayed too long in the clinic, having received expert initial care from Dr Beckett aboard the Earth ship Daedalus. She had left her private room here as soon as she had been able, preferring the comfort and privacy of her own quarters. The lead healer had been happy to visit her there to check on her progress. However, Father had not been so pleased for her need for space. He had visited her several times a day, despite his busy schedule, as had various other family members, all clearly working together to provide unnecessary all round care for her. Teyla suspected the same would be done for Rhakshar.

The nurse led her out of the main clinic area and into the corridor off which the private rooms could be accessed. Rhakshar was in the first room to the right, which had the largest window overlooking the small courtyard outside in which the sick could sit out in the warm sunshine when able.

The doors to Rhakshar's room were closed, but with two small windows set into them, Teyla had a clear view inside to where Rhakshar lay in his bed. A quick visual sweep of the room revealed that he was by himself, which surprised Teyla.

"Your sister left him to rest, Mistress," the nurse added quietly at Teyla's side. "He has not slept all that much." Teyla understood the woman's point, that the patient should not be disturbed for too long.

"He is well enough for visitors though?" Teyla checked.

"Oh, yes, Mistress," the nurse replied quietly. "He has had many, which is perhaps why your sister and his parents finally left his side to encourage him to sleep."

Teyla nodded. "He is recovering well?" She asked as she took in how Rhakshar was lying in the bed. With a very experienced eye, from her own and fellow Elite's wounds over the years, she could tell that Rhakshar was relaxed but clearly uncomfortable. He lay with the head of his bed raised, his wide shoulders filling the width of the mattress, and his face was turned away from the doors. He was likely sleeping lightly or simply relaxed as he watched the courtyard outside. Teyla had studied the details of that same courtyard many times herself from her recovery bed.

"Yes, he is recovering well, though the lead healer had to stress to him several times the need for him to remain in bed for another couple of days," the nurse replied and Teyla heard some amusement in the woman's voice, for clearly she remembered having had the exact same conversation with Teyla in the past.

"I will reiterate the order for you," Teyla replied with a smile to the nurse.

The nurse looked surprised as she returned the smile. "Try not to keep him awake too long, Mistress," she added, a gentle command to an Elite that only medical personnel could get away with.

Teyla nodded as the woman moved away, leaving Teyla alone by the doors.

She stood silently for a few moments more, studying the man who she had mistrusted for so long. She watched him carefully, but saw no tension in him other than the expected physical discomfort. For so long she had held steadfast suspicion about him, and though his courageous action yesterday did not eliminate that former concern of hers, she had to admit to herself that she had not treated this man appropriately.

She had seen from the start that he was uncomfortable around her, though he had never been anything but polite and respectful to her. Yet, it had felt like more than the discomfort of being around an Elite warrior, for Teyla was used to that response, but with Rhakshar she had sensed that there was something he was concealing from her. In sensing that something was so out of place, she had responded with what she realised now had been a typical Elite response to a perceived potential threat. She had sought to watch him closely, silently intimidating him, and researching his past. She had treated him as a potential dangerous enemy, and had made no attempt whatsoever to talk with him directly about the issue. She had chosen the warrior's response over the negotiator, detective, or politician approach, for she had treated this situation as that of a battlefield. Nothing she had investigated about him had been worrying, and even those she trusted most had seen nothing in Rhakshar other than natural discomfort around an Elite. To everyone else he was an honourable man, and his actions yesterday only seemed to confirm that belief.

Therefore, it was time that Teyla addressed this head on, with thanks for his courageous act yesterday, but also with some honest conversation.

She pushed open one of the doors and stepped into the room.

Rhakshar was awake, mostly, for he looked round immediately, blinking away drowsiness.

He clearly had not been expecting Teyla to visit him.

"Honoured Elite," he said, more from shock than greeting, and he began to shift in his bed, as if to sit up higher. In doing so though, he pulled at his wound and Teyla saw him wince sharply.

"You would do best not to move around too quickly," Teyla advised him as she moved towards his bed. "When it comes to wounds and stitches I have vast experience."

He nodded as he cautiously leant back into his pillows. He let out his held breath in a faint groan of pain, and he looked faintly embarrassed as he settled. He was likely unaware that he was still holding tightly to the blanket over him, an unconscious attempt to protect himself perhaps.

Teyla reached the end of his bed and paused by one corner, the stretch of his bed between them.

"How do you fare?" Teyla asked him.

"I am doing well, thank you," he replied, his voice strained but somewhat recovered from the pain, and it was as polite as ever.

"Father tells me that your surgery went very well, that the path of the bullet was not as harmful as it could have been," she said.

Rhakshar nodded as he shifted faintly again in the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. "At least it gave you and Major Sheppard the time you required to stop the assassin," he replied.

"Yes, it did," Teyla replied.

He stilled, and the sudden relaxation in his expression told Teyla that his pain was fading. He seemed to sag back into the bed a little further, though his hands were still tight on the warm blanket over him.

"The Elite have dealt with the one responsible for what happened," Teyla assured him.

"That is good to hear," Rhakshar replied, his voice clearly more relaxed this time, his pain settled. "Thank you for what you did, Honoured Elite," he added, surprising Teyla, for she had walked in intending to be the one to pass thanks to him. "Both my parents and I are deeply grateful, and we hope to have the opportunity to pass along our thanks to Major Sheppard."

"I am sure that he, or Mr Woolsey from Atlantis, will be visiting soon enough," Teyla replied.

Rhakshar nodded vaguely. "Perhaps they can be present for the wedding ceremony," he suggested.

"When the time comes perhaps," Teyla replied.

Rhakshar lifted his eyes to meet hers directly for a moment. "We have decided to wed tomorrow, that we will not let what has happened delay our plans. It will be a far smaller ceremony in the gathering courtyard," he told her and there was an edge to his voice as if he was defending their choice. Perhaps he had been to the healers here.

"You will be well enough for that?" Teyla asked.

He looked briefly surprised at her question, as if he had expected only an argument from her. He quickly smiled politely at her question – the covering smile of a politician. "Yes. If nothing else I will stand through the ceremony itself."

Teyla nodded, impressed somewhat at his determination.

Silence filled the room and the space between them.

Discomfort niggled at Teyla's insides. She was not used to feeling out of place in a conversation, but then she did not have many long conversations with others if it was not concerning battle or Wraith.

However, Rhakshar was also uncomfortable, his eyes sliding away from hers as if he was desperately looking for something else to say.

The old niggling suspicion reasserted itself for her, that sense of there being something that Rhakshar was concealing, something that hovered around him. Despite her appreciation for what he had done yesterday, and her intention to thank him and apologise to him for her previous treatment, here it was again, that niggling instinct that told her something was wrong.

She caught herself frowning suspiciously at him again.

She took a further step forward, bringing her slightly closer to him at his bedside. She crossed her arms and leant her hip slightly against the bed so that she was stood as face on to him as she could. His eyes lifted to her immediately.

She held his gaze directly, falling on her usual direct Elite manner. Father, Zabetha, and the others had said that it was her Elite warrior status that he found intimidating, well now he would have it full on.

"I am an Elite warrior, Rhakshar," she began, "as such I am not one to hold back on my opinions and intentions." He looked faintly worried. "It is likely no secret to you that I have been…concerned about your marriage to my sister."

Rhakshar licked his lips nervously, but he nodded, his shoulders lifting slightly to create a strong straight line across the pillows.

"As an Elite warrior, I have to trust my instincts, for they have literally saved my life and many others in the past," she stated. "It is often said that Elite see through lies, and in many ways that is correct."

Rhakshar blinked, but there was no twitch in his expression that suggested lies were the problem here, which was interesting.

She tilted her head slightly, studying him closely, making sure that she held his attention firmly, forcing this moment.

"There is something that you have been concealing from me, Rhakshar, and it has concerned me," she stated.

His gaze dropped slightly, but his chin remained high. She see that he was thinking quickly, and that alone confirmed to her that she had been right. Yet, a strange new calm seemed to have come over him.

He lifted his gaze to meet hers and for the first time she saw blunt honesty in his expression.

"I have never lied to you, Honoured Elite," he told her. "And I have not lied to Zabetha. I love you sister, deeply," he stated.

He held her direct gaze still, his chin high and his expression determined. She was impressed with his strength in the face of an Elite interrogation - after all she stood here with two swords on her back and a stunner on her hip. No one would doubt what she said could have happened in here.

However, Teyla did not doubt what he was saying now, for finally she was seeing the directness she needed.

"I know that you do," she replied. "Your actions yesterday were courageous and noble."

He blinked, thrown by her sudden compliment. He glanced away to an empty chair stood close to the side of his bed. Teyla suspected it was where Zabetha had been sat.

"I would do anything for your sister," he said softly. He paused for a moment. "Perhaps, I have been somewhat too protective over her in other ways though."

His tone had been pointed, conveying a deeper meaning.

A strange sensation went through Teyla as she processed what he might mean.

He dropped his eyes down to the blanket over him, seeing for himself that he had been clutching it against him. He relaxed his grip and began to smooth out the covers unnecessarily, his expression assessing, as if he were determining exactly how he should phrase what he said next.

This was all about Zabetha, Teyla realised.

A new fear burst to life, an echo of the guttural terror she had felt yesterday when she had seen the Earth weapon focused on her sister and yet had known that there had been nothing she could have done quickly enough to stop the bullet.

She watched Rhakshar's face now intently, studying every flicker of expression, as she fought down the worry and edgy concern.

It was not a new sensation, for had it not been lingering in her for years now. In the continuous way she and Zabetha argued, in the frustration that she was unable to understand her sister clearly and unable to communicate with her in any way other than in exchanges of frustrated misunderstandings. And perhaps also in the niggling worry that they had lost some connection that had never been all that strong to begin with.

The stirring emotions of this now were unexpected and their strength so alien to Teyla that she struggled to suppress them down under her control. She held entirely still, holding her breath, desperately waiting for Rhakshar to explain.

"It is not my place to interfere in your relationship with Zabetha," Rhakshar said finally, his eyes lifting faintly, caution and worry in his words at how Teyla might respond.

Teyla let out her held breath as quietly and in as controlled a way as possible. "I value direct speech, Rhakshar," she told him. "I will not hold anything you say against you."

He looked down, some of his concern sliding aside.

"I am more concerned how Zabetha will respond," he muttered with faint amusement, but it was a strange sad amusement that failed as his words died away. He licked his lips again and looked up at Teyla more directly.

"Some things are not mine to speak of, but what hurts Zabetha, hurts me," he said plainly, but not all that insightfully. "If I have transferred some of that in how I have spoken with you, then I apologise," Rhakshar continued.

Teyla frowned at him. "You are saying that I have hurt Zabetha?" She asked with surprise and something far too worryingly close to guilt to be comfortable.

"No, not you," he replied, but that only made Teyla tense further. Who had hurt her sister? "It does pain her that you are not closer, that she cannot share with you." He paused. "That she has been alone for so long."

Teyla frowned at him. "She is not alone," she stated.

Yet, images of her younger sister came instantly to mind, from across the years. Zabetha had still been young when Teyla had left to join the Elite, and, even before that, Teyla had frequently gone on long trips with Elkaska, eager to travel far and experience life through Portals and the vastness of space. The memories Teyla had of Zabetha were always full of others around her; if not with Father, then Charin, Elkaska, Hakon and the large array of women who had helped raise them when Father had been unable to keep them with him as he worked.

Teyla had never thought of Zabetha as alone, ever. If anything, Teyla felt a closer association herself with being alone; alone without true family around her as she had trained, alone in a battlefield, Wraith falling upon her from all directions, alone without a mother to care about her.

The grief rose up sharp and tearing.

It was likely that the events of the last day that allowed such sharpness to her emotions. Nearly seeing her family killed before her, fighting Iketani, Massa's desperate secret and frantic battle against the traitor. Of little Aki, without a mother…

Teyla looked away, the emotions fighting free in a way that they had never done before.

She was an Elite, she was strong, she did not give in to emotion…

Yet, in her mind's eye, she saw little Zabetha, stood with tears in her eyes, asking why Teyla was leaving her behind.

It was an old memory that had been hidden behind strong walls for a long time, the pain of it too strong.

In choosing to become an Elite, Teyla had had to leave her family behind. On the day she had left to begin her Elite training, Zabetha had begged her to stay, her youth not allowing her to understand the true difficult reasons why Teyla had made the choice she had. In joining the Elite, Teyla was striving to protect Zabetha and all the other Athosian and Alliance children. To avenge their mother, and to fight back so that no other children lost their mother to a terrifying death at the hands of a Wraith.

They must have been hollow words to a child so young, left without mother or older sister.

Guilt, shame and pain tore through Teyla, and they were emotions that she had denied for far too long so that now their intensity shocked her. She had arguments against them, explanations and justifications, but mixed in with them were her own pains; the loss of Mother; the emptiness of her early life in Tjaru as she desperately needed to do something; to be an Elite; to be powerful herself to stop other mothers being killed. And anger, the deep boiling anger at the Ancestors for having let the Wraith grow so strong, at leaving them to kill so many, running rampant through the stars.

The torrent of feelings, memories, and old buried pains threatened her control entirely now, and Teyla realised she was staring at one wall of the clinic room. Tears threatened to fill her eyes and her throat felt thick with so much that had gone unsaid. She felt her own guilt at leaving her sister behind, and knew that in response to that, she had thrust her own justification of her choices in her sister's face. Suddenly all their fights made more sense, the childishness of them, the battle over a warrior's life versus one of politics in Tjaru. They had been battling over their life choices, over Teyla's choice so many years ago.

Abandonment and grief, which had left them both alone in a universe full of people, but lacking one figure they had both lost. In some ways, Teyla felt that she had lost her sister almost as profoundly as she had her mother.

That realisation gave Teyla a snapshot of control and she latched onto it, forcing down the feelings. She blinked rapidly, controlling the tears that hovered to be spilt. No, she would not lose her sister, as she had almost done yesterday. It was not too late to start to mend what had almost been broken.

Awareness of Rhakshar returned and embarrassment thrust up, assisting the regaining of her emotional rule. She cleared her throat and blinked a few more times before looking back at Rhakshar.

He looked up at her.

Had Zabetha been sharing similar feelings with him? Was that why he had been uncomfortable with her? Knowing the grief she had caused her sister? Teyla drew a deep breath, her eyes sliding away to the medical charts and vases of flowers along the wall by his bed; so many presents; so many who respected this man.

Teyla looked back at him, assessing him again. His eyes were far more direct now, and in them she saw an uncomfortable sense of sympathy for her. She was not used to sympathy from anyone and it grated on her somewhat. She replayed what he had said to her. He had spoken of hurt and, in many ways, Teyla could now accept that she had hurt her sister, but he had said she had not been the one to harm Zabetha.

"And the hurt done to her that you spoke of?" Teyla pushed. "If it was not by my choice to leave, then who has hurt Zabetha?" She heard the determined strength in her voice. If someone had tried to harm her sister, then the Ancestors help them…

His eyes dropped away immediately, the shadow of the same discomfort she had seen all this time returning, and Teyla knew she had been right, and that this was the crux of the matter.

"It is not my place to tell you," he replied. "Though, I have suggested to her that she speak of it with you," Rhakshar added, which surprised Teyla slightly, but clearly her growing anger at harm being done to her sister had reached her expression, because Rhakshar twitched slightly. "No one has harmed her, I assure you of that. I would not let them," he insisted, argued sternly.

His assurance brought some relief, but it was not enough to extinguish her worry for Zabetha. Then, Teyla realised that she trusted Rhakshar's certainty on this. On the subject of Zabetha, she now trusted that he knew more than any other.

She met his gaze again, feeling gratitude for him, not only in his actions yesterday, but in all he had now shared. He was not the enemy she had foreseen.

"I have misjudged you," Teyla told him plainly. "For that I am sorry."

He smiled faintly as he looked down. "Perhaps I have misjudged you as well," he replied before he looked back up. "Torren has said to me many times that you and Zabetha are very alike in some ways."

Teyla angled her head, asking for that opinion of her father's.

Rhakshar looked faintly uncomfortable for mentioning it. Teyla waited, smiling faintly as she tried to predict how Father would describe her and Zabetha to another.

"He said that you are both like your mother," Rhakshar began. "A still calm lake for all to see, but, beneath the surface, can be found deep emotional waters."

Teyla smiled at him as she let out an amused breath. "Perhaps," she agreed.

Rhakshar smiled properly in return, for the first time to her. Teyla realised now that he had thought her uncaring of Zabetha, having believed she was the stone cold Elite persona she projected for all to see. It was the perception all Elite worked to present, of being solely focused warriors, living to protect and defend against the Wraith, that they had no time for emotion or for family in their mission. However, the truth of the Elite was far from that public image, and now Rhakshar knew it too. Only she did not regret that loss, she instead felt strangely pleased that someone outside her close circle could see that she was a human being beneath her Elite fame. Only one other man had made her feel that way, but for very different reasons.

Rhakshar was not a warrior, but he had protected Zabetha far more than Teyla ever had, and because of that, Teyla now felt a powerful kinship with him. It was surprising in its suddenness, so quick on the heels of her suspicion, but it pleased her greatly.

"Zabetha loves you," he suddenly said. "When we first began meeting to get to know one another, she talked of you constantly, and she still does. I have seen how she keeps close watch on military announcements, looking for your name, and she speaks with pride of your accomplishments."

"She does?" Teyla asked with honest surprise.

Rhakshar nodded with another smile. It was strange how one conversation could alter so much. If only she had talked with him sooner…

"I will never forget what you did for my sister yesterday," Teyla told him. "And for your honesty this day."

He nodded, seemingly faintly embarrassed at her words, the reaction reminding her of John again.

"Do you know where Zabetha is now?" She asked. Speaking so frankly with him had cleared the air between them so efficiently, and had altered her faith in her sister's future happiness, that she wished to continue the momentum. It was time that she had the same kind of frank discussion with Zabetha.

"She was planning to sleep a short while and then have a meal, but, to be honest, I expect she will not have done much of either," Rhakshar replied. "She has been quite distressed."

"That is understandable," Teyla replied, for her sister was not a warrior and was therefore not used to the sudden shocking violence she had seen yesterday, and she had almost lost her husband before they had even been married.

Teyla pushed away from the side of his bed. "I will leave you to rest," she told him as she moved towards the door, only to pause, "Brother."

He smiled with surprise, and, looking back at him, she finally saw what everyone else had – an honest honourable man.

Teyla pushed open the door and left him to his rest.

000  
>TBC<p> 


	33. Family

**Chapter 33 - Family**

00000

She found Zabetha in the first place she looked, in the family dining room, sat at the far end of the large table. Zabetha was alone, though Teyla suspected that Pyrha, her assistant and friend, wouldn't be too far away.

As the room had no windows, no natural light made it in here, so the family usually preferred to light the space with a myriad of candles set around the room. When the candles were lit, as some were now, it gave the room the feeling of being inside a traditional Athosian tent. Teyla could faintly remember the days of living in a tent, though those days had been far fewer than those lived inside this Governing complex. The memories of that time might be few in number and lacking in intense quality, but as Mother had still been alive then they were enthused with feeling. Teyla could remember the warm interior of the old family tent, the scent of the drying herbs and flowers hung from the poles, and the feel of thick rugs under her feet. The majority of Athosians still lived in such tents; whereas Teyla had spent more of her life surrounded by ship bulkheads than even within the sturdy walls of the Governing Buildings.

Zabetha had lit only a fraction of the room's candles today, which created barely enough light by which she could read what was on the pad that she anxiously tapped. Though it was the middle of the day, it felt like the subdued silence of late evening in the room, and the warm shadows seemed to enshroud Zabetha in her own world.

Teyla entered the room quietly, noting that though there were no scents of drying herbs, there was a strong smell of rich food. On one side unit, there sat a large array of covered plates and bowls, all the very best of the complex's earthenware. Teyla realised that this food had been intended for the wedding feast today – a wedding that had never happened. The perishable food, that would not keep till tomorrow, would likely have been shared throughout the staff and visitors; nothing would go to waste. It was likely that Father would have seen the rest given away to others outside the complex, to the city guards and hospital patients. Yet, here Zabetha sat with the unused celebratory meal set out for her and her alone. Teyla noted that the plate of food at her sister's elbow was half-eaten at best.

Teyla was practically at her sister's side when Zabetha realised there was someone else in the room, or perhaps she had just been ignoring whoever it might be so lost in her work that she was.

Zabetha peered up with tired, almost dull eyes, from the pad, and almost looked away before she realised it was Teyla almost at her side.

"Teyla, you have returned," Zabetha said redundantly.

Teyla nodded her head as she reached the end of the table, taking in the signs of fatigue and worry in her sister's face. She suspected that if Zabetha had slept at all, it had been brief, as Rhakshar had predicted. Zabetha had indeed barely picked at the luxury food abandoned at her elbow, and was focused far too intently on work she was completing before she returned to Rhakshar's side. Teyla wondered what was so important on the pad that her sister had been straining over it so intently.

"Yes," Teyla replied as she reached for the back of the chair in front of her, pulling it back so that she could sit down on the end chair on this side of the table. "The Elite have dealt with the one responsible for what happened yesterday," she informed her sister, hoping that it might ease some of the worry in Zabetha's expression.

Zabetha nodded vaguely, her eyes wide as she watched Teyla sit down beside her. "I did not doubt that you would."

Seated, Teyla shifted in her chair so that her swords did not dig into the soft cushions of the high backed hand carved chairs. She had been back on Athos barely an hour and she had not changed or returned to her quarters yet. She had found Father first, in his study and thanking other world leaders over the communications for their offers of support for what had happened yesterday. News of the Elite's success against those responsible had already been circulating through the news feeds. Father had seemed more relieved than usual to see Teyla returned home to Tjaru.

He had looked tired, but he had been his usual calm self, in control and in command, yet she had been able to sense the strain behind that calm, after all it had been on his world that a High Councillor had been assassinated.

Rosenthal held no blame against him or Athos it seemed though, instead squarely focusing their attention on the captured assassin who would indeed be tried soon. None of that had surprised Teyla, including the strain on her father, for she had witnessed him through various stressful events as the powerful leader he was. However, Ketra's presence in his study had surprised her. It seemed that Father had not felt able to leave Ketra alone in Teyla's quarters, and since the dragon respected and obeyed him, he had allowed her to be by his side since Teyla had left. Ketra had even slept at the foot of his bed last night.

Yet, looking at Zabetha, Teyla wondered if Ketra's protectiveness and need for her own support could have been better given to Zabetha.

"I have just come from visiting Rhakshar," Teyla told her.

"He is awake?" Zabetha asked, "I should go to him." She blinked down at the pad in her hand, as if concerned about how she had left her work. "I had wanted to complete the new wedding plans for him. I hoped he would have slept more," she muttered, almost more to herself.

Teyla had never seen Zabetha look so unsettled, and it unsettled her in response. She reached out across the small distance between their arms, resting on the large dark wooden table, and touched her hand to her sister's arm.

"Let him rest, Zabetha," Teyla told her softly, but with some command in her voice. "I disturbed his rest with my visit and I am certain that he will have now fallen asleep."

Zabetha chewed on the inside of her lower lip and Teyla felt the tension in her sister's elegant long forearm. Teyla realised that it was perhaps the first time she had touched her sister in a long while. She pulled her hand away, conscious that the tension in her sister might be partly due to that contact.

Zabetha seemed to gather herself slightly, dropping her attention to the pad in her hand again. "He always wants to speak with those who visit him, as if he has to entertain and be pleasant all the time, even with me and his parents. I left his side in hopes that he would rest properly."

"He is recovering well, and plans to stand at your ceremony tomorrow," Teyla replied, hoping to lift her mood.

Zabetha looked up faintly, her brow still lowered, deepening the darkness of her eyes in the candlelight. "He wants the ceremony in the gathering courtyard, and to stand for all to see. I would have preferred that he remain resting."

There was something strange in Zabetha's voice, a worry that Teyla could not entirely understand.

"He will be strong enough tomorrow to stand for a short time, Zabetha," she told her. "I have seen such injuries before and he will recover well and quickly." It was truth enough.

Zabetha glanced away and down to the pad again, setting it down on the table finally. "I suppose you would know far more about such things than I," she uttered quietly.

In any normal conversation between them, Teyla would have expected such a comment to be somewhat bitterly delivered, but today it was softer, full of far more feeling.

"I must thank you, Teyla," she added quietly, her eyes still lowered. "Without your actions, and Major Sheppard's, Father would have been killed and Rhakshar with him." The emotion was thick in her voice.

"I fear that I was not fast enough to protect you as well though," Teyla replied honestly, remembering that horrific moment again.

Zabetha looked up sharply. "You were too far away," Zabetha replied, her surprise at Teyla's words clear, but there was also something more in her eyes.

"Fortunately Rhakshar was by your side, and acted nobly," Teyla continued. "I have thanked him for his courageous act."

The sparkle of pleasure in Zabetha's eyes was obvious in the glow of the candles, as well as the continuing surprise at Teyla's admissions.

"He will have been honoured by your words," Zabetha said after a moment, and this time there was no edge of sarcasm that would have normally entered such a phrase from her. Now there was instead something painfully close to hope and joy in Zabetha's voice and expression. It once again pulled at Teyla's newly realised awareness of how her past choices had affected her sister, and how her treatment of Rhakshar had only compounded past hurts.

Teyla looked away from her beautiful sister, down to her own hands pressed to the warm wooden tabletop. There were small scars across the backs of her hands and thick calluses on her palms – the hands of a warrior - gained from years of studious training, sparring, and warfare. Zabetha's hands, in contrast, were elegant, delicate and smooth. Perhaps Teyla's would have been like her sister's if she had chosen differently in her life. She wondered what it would have been like to grow up to adulthood in Tjaru alongside Zabetha. The thought provoked forth old warm memories, of play and giggles in the old family tent. Of Mother cooking sweet grain cakes over the fire and Father returning from the negotiating tables to sit with them on the thick rugs before the fire and telling them stories of the Ancestors. Teyla could remember Zabetha back then, a tiny babe, barely able to understand her Father's words, but she had been able to watch the fire and listen to their voices. Teyla had used to tickle her sides so she would smile and giggle.

It was with regret and shame, that Teyla realised that she had no truly powerful happy or loving memories of her sister since that time.

"I fear that I have wronged you, Zabetha," Teyla began, pushing herself to continue the flow of honesty she had found with Rhakshar, which had woken her to a pain she had denied and ignored for too long. One that, according to Rhakshar, Zabetha also shared.

"You were too far away from me, Teyla," Zabetha replied, thinking Teyla was still referring to yesterday's events.

Teyla looked at her sister. "I am not just referring to yesterday."

Zabetha did not respond as Teyla had predicted. She did not look confused or frown, instead her face went blank, control firmly sliding into place, and she sat back slightly in her chair.

"You spoke with Rhakshar," Zabetha stated, her voice clipped and more of the political advisor that she had become.

Teyla suspected immediately that Zabetha thought Rhakshar had spoken of the 'secret' that had harmed her.

"He mentioned our disagreements," Teyla replied, "which have been a concern of mine for some time. I realise that a great distance has developed between us."

Zabetha's cold reaction relaxed somewhat, as she presumably felt safe in the knowledge that Rhakshar had not confided what he shouldn't. Teyla's curiosity of what would make her sister so withdrawn pulled at her, but it could wait for a few moments. First Teyla needed to clear the air between them. To address what had gone unsaid for too long.

Zabetha had not responded to her words, instead she had looked back down to the table, to the pad with her marriage plans upon it. Sat like that, in the tent like lighting, she was suddenly the younger sister that she was, the political advisor persona set aside. The faint signs of sadness and discomfort on Zabetha's face, and in the way that she held herself, were oddly refreshing and comforting for Teyla. She was not alone in the emotional importance of this.

"Since I left, we have grown apart," Teyla told her.

"I was still young, Teyla, I have few memories of that time," Zabetha replied sharply.

Teyla almost winced. It was true enough, why had she thought any different?

"I have fond memories of you," Teyla abruptly shared, and Zabetha looked up with surprised interest. "I remember sitting beside you in the family tent. You used to giggle and smile at us as we talked to you. I used to hold you when Father and Mother told us the tales of our people and of the Ancestors."

Zabetha glanced aside, but not away, the grief in her face obvious.

"Even when Mother was gone, and we moved to live here, I spent much time away from you," Teyla continued. "But, I remember our evenings still, sat with Father in the courtyards. Talking and laughing about what we had learnt and done each day."

Zabetha smiled faintly, and Teyla saw a reflection of her own smile in her sister's features.

"We used to sneak into the orchard courtyard and steal the fruit," Zabetha added.

She did have memories of those days.

"Often dragging Hakon with us," Teyla added.

"He used to be so afraid of Mino," Zabetha said with a wider smile.

"For you had told him that she could read people's thoughts," Teyla replied with a grin of her own.

Zabetha laughed lightly, the first laughter they had perhaps shared in a long time. "Thinking of it, I think he is still somewhat afraid of Mino."

"I believe most are. I know that I am," Teyla replied.

Zabetha yet again looked thrown by Teyla's admission. "The Great Elite warrior Emmagan afraid of a gardener?" There were the first touches of mischief in Zabetha's expression, but it was held back with concern, likely at whether she should joke about Teyla's Elite status.

"Do not tell anyone else," Teyla told her, knowing that with that response she was making it clear to her sister that she could tease her.

For too many years, Teyla had been defensive with her sister about being an Elite, and Zabetha in return too defensive about her own choices. It was so startling obvious and regretful now for Teyla, but at least she had finally realised. At least she could allow herself to be more emotionally open with her sister. To be the Athosian woman and sister she was as much as she was an Elite. She had forgotten that part of herself. She realised that this awareness and desire to be more open with those she trusted was becoming a new trait.

She suspected that it had begun with the arrival of the handsome man from another galaxy who had tempted her so frequently to reveal more of her thoughts and feelings. To pull at a yearning that had been buried deep inside for a long time.

She looked at her smiling sister and felt something ease inside her, as she surrendered to that yearning part of herself that wanted emotional connections and meaning outside the need to be a warrior. Being an Elite meant so much to her, but so did her sister, she had simply lost sight of that fearing herself excluded from Zabetha's personal life entirely. Yet, if she was to make this relationship stronger, she needed to repair it as best she could. To explain why she had made the choices she had.

"Choosing to become an Elite," she began, keeping her voice soft and light still, making it clear to Zabetha that she was not making an argumentative point, as she would have in the past, "is a calling for me. It was something that I felt drawn to from deep inside me, from a very young age. But, I want to you to know that part of the reason why that is so, is because of you."

Zabetha angled her head slightly, surprised, but waiting openly curious and listening with the calm focused silence of their father.

"I wanted to become what I have, to protect all children, all families," Teyla continued. "To make sure that you and Father were safe, and," she drew a breath, "that no other children had to lose their mother as we did."

She held her sister's gaze and saw the shimmer of emotion in Zabetha's eyes. It was that shared grief again, and Teyla allowed it, unhindered like never before, to rise up inside her. She felt the wetness in her eyes as she saw the reflection of the same grief so clearly in Zabetha's eyes. It was such an old pain and perhaps one that would never truly end.

"I left you, and Father, to make sure that you would be safe. For you and for what happened to Mother," Teyla said, holding Zabetha's gaze directly.

Zabetha's studied her in turn, seeking honesty perhaps. Teyla tried to release her control enough to allow her emotions to show like never before with anyone. She needed Zabetha to see the truth, to understand her as she sought to understand Zabetha.

Zabetha's lips thinned, with a strained smile, but mostly because of the tears glistening in her eyes. She nodded her head slightly, and then reached out, touching her hand to Teyla's forearm. The warmth of the touch went far further than the physical temperature of her hand. Teyla reached across with her other hand and covered Zabetha's fingers in response, desperately appreciative of the contact. Zabetha's hand turned under hers and they held each other's hand tightly.

"I miss her too," Zabetha said, a tear dripping free from her eyes, but she lost none of her regal beauty. It was the first time they had openly shared their grief with each other since they had been too young to remember.

"And I have missed you too," Zabetha added. Teyla felt a complex mix of pleasure and guilt at that, but she tightened her grasp on her sister's hand a little tighter. "But, I always been proud of your choice. I only wished that perhaps I could have been as strong as you."

Teyla frowned at her. "There are far more ways to be strong than to become an Elite," she told her. "And you are like Father, a skilled politician and one day likely to lead our people."

Zabetha smiled at that, clearly pleased with Teyla's assessment of her.

"I am not patient or skilled enough in negotiation as you," Teyla told her. "I envy your skills."

"I think you do yourself an injustice," Zabetha replied with a light smile. "After all it was you who always persuaded Hakon to join us on our orchard raids, and you used to make up all manner of excuses why we were in the tea room, or wherever, when she shouldn't have been."

Teyla could not remember that detail, though she remembered that they had so often snuck around the complex, having slipped away from their watchers.

"They always believed you too," Zabetha continued. "You could always talk us out of any situation."

"I do not remember that," Teyla admitted.

"Ask Hakon. He and I have joked about it many times."

Teyla angled her head with interest. "And what else do you speak of about me?" She teased.

Zabetha looked away with studied innocence, her hand pulling away from Teyla's to wipe at her drying tears. "I do not recall."

"You have to tell the truth to an Elite warrior," Teyla argued, but smiled with delight at the freedom she felt in being able to tease her sister.

Zabetha inclined her head, but there was a shadow to something in her response, and suddenly Teyla recalled the other reason why she had sought out this conversation.

"I would not wish to put Hakon in too difficult a situation," Zabetha replied, playing along with the joke, but the shadow remained there. A faint distance between them again.

Teyla nodded, looking down at Zabetha's plate of food close to her. It smelt good and her stomach rumbled slightly.

"You need to make sure you eat," Teyla told her, "to keep up your strength for the wedding ceremony."

Zabetha's eyes dropped to the plate and, surprisingly, she pulled the plate towards her and reached for one of the utensils.

"They have left plenty for us for the rest of the day," Zabetha said as she began to chew small pieces of food. "I apologised to the chefs that they would have to cook a further wedding meal tomorrow, though considerably smaller in number."

Teyla appreciated the new more relaxed conversation, but she did not move away to the food for herself, she instead wanted to hold onto the intimate open honestly they had just shared.

"Zabetha, I am sure that you are aware that I have had some concerns about Rhakshar," she began, keeping her voice soft. "I have felt that there was something that he was keeping from me, something hidden, and as an Elite I could not ignore that intuition."

Zabetha's attention was focused down on her food, but she was listening and not interrupting or arguing, as she would have before today. Teyla strove onwards.

"I was concerned that perhaps he was hiding something from you, that he was not honourable and worthy enough to be your husband."

Zabetha looked up at that, again from under her brow, her long eyelashes catching the light.

"I have perhaps been, as many have told me, overprotective of you in that regard," Teyla explained. "Rhakshar's actions yesterday proved to me without a doubt that he is an honourable man, and that he will be a good husband to you."

"It took a warrior's act to prove it to you," Zabetha said, the tone somehow both understanding and accusative at once, however there was no hint of impending argument yet.

"Perhaps, yes, but I explained my reasoning to him just now," Teyla shared, watching Zabetha closely. "And he has accepted my apology, but he also admitted to me that there has been something that he has kept concealed from me." Zabetha frowned. "But that it is something that is not his to share."

Zabetha's eyes dropped to her plate again and her expression became partly concealed in the shadow of her hair.

"He told me no more than that," Teyla added. "But, I could see that it is something that worries him. That he worries for you."

Zabetha's frown deepened as she glanced to the side, to the covered lavish food set on the side. The moment extended; the silence full and quivering with the potential for more honesty.

"He does not need to," Zabetha said. "Clearly, he too is overly protective of me."

Silence returned for a moment, and Teyla wondered if she should push further or not. She was not skilled at dealing with closer personal conversation like this.

Was it even right of her to push Zabetha like this?

"As it is not Rhakshar's to tell me," Teyla said into the quiet, "so it is also not my right to know anything that you do not wish to share. Only know that…you may tell me anything you wish, Zabetha." She took a breath as she glanced to her own worn hands again. "I know that I have not been the older sister than you needed, that you deserved, but know that I am here if you wish to speak to me. If not, then that is fine as well."

Zabetha's cheek twitched and she looked at Teyla from the side of her eyes. "It is nothing really," she said, but the casualness in her voice was far too forced. "And Rhakshar has accepted the ways things will have to be…" She looked down at her plate again, her words having run out. She poked at some sauce-drenched vegetables with her fork.

Teyla sensed that silent patience would be best now, so she waited, watching her sister and hoping.

"I am not sure if you were aware that I suffered a difficult illness when I was younger," Zabetha said, her attention apparently focused on the vegetables. "I was kept in the clinic for some weeks."

"I remember Father mentioning something about it," Teyla recalled. It had been whilst she had been midway through her Elite training. She remembered it because Elkaska had unusually brought her a direct message at the Training Facility when he had been trading there. "Father said you had fully recovered." A worry niggled at Teyla again. Was Zabetha sick? She looked well, despite the tiredness from yesterday's stress.

"I did recover well," Zabetha replied. "Only it became apparent some years later that I had sustained some internal damage from the illness." Her tone was far too controlled. "I did not begin my monthly bleeds at the time most did."

Teyla suddenly suspected she understood what was to come.

"After a few years, well beyond what was normal, I still had not entered into that stage of womanhood, so I was seen by an expert in such matters at the main healing centre." She set down the fork and finally looked up at Teyla. "I am unable to have children."

Teyla held her gaze directly. She wasn't sure what to say, how best to convey how sorry she was and yet not be overly sympathetic, which she suspected Zabetha would not need.

"I know that having children is not necessary for a fulfilled life," Zabetha continued. "I know that there are children in need of homes…" Her voice broke faintly. She frowned to control her feelings again, but she was not as skilled at it as Teyla was.

"It is still a loss for you," Teyla said. "There is nothing wrong in feeling that."

Zabetha nodded as she dropped her eyes to the plate once more. "I am fortunate. My health is otherwise well, and Rhakshar is willing still to marry me."

"Is this why the discussions for your marriage went on for longer than normal?" Teyla asked, pieces falling into place now.

"I admit that I was reluctant at first to confess my secret to him, for though political marriages do not require children, I found myself drawn to him." She smiled in a new way, in that soft way that those in love did. For the first time, Teyla felt nothing but pleasure at seeing it, for she no longer had any concerns about Rhakshar.

"You fell in love with him," Teyla stated for her.

Zabetha looked up at her and the soft smile widened. "Yes, and once he knew the truth of my situation, he wanted the marriage contract altered to ensure that if we one day adopt a child, that it will be held in similar regard as a biological child of ours."

Teyla nodded, even more pleased with her future brother's actions. "He is an honourable man, but regardless of children, he is lucky to have you as his wife."

There was a shimmer of wetness in Zabetha's eyes again though. "I fear that he has surrendered something too vital as having a child of his own, that he may one day regret his choice." The confession of fears rushed from Zabetha's lips.

Teyla reached out and clasped Zabetha's hand. "He has made his choice, Sister. You trust him with your life and your heart, trust his word as well." Teyla was aware that she was speaking with somewhat of an 'Elite tone', but it felt appropriate. Her sister needed strong support now.

Zabetha faintly nodded her agreement to Teyla's point, her eyes sliding back down to her plate. "And I have also feared that, as you are an Elite, that our family line…it could likely end with us, Teyla. Mother and Father's legacy." Tears spilled down Zabetha's cheeks, but this time, Teyla pulled on her own stronger feelings. She held her sister's hand with the strength of a warrior now.

"Zabetha, we are our parents' legacy. In all our actions, we honour them and we live for them. That will never end. We live now out of the shadow of the Wraith, and we no longer live just to forward our people's genetic lines. To breed new stock, to keep our people alive. Life does not need to be about that same legacy. You can forge the life you want, as you are doing, with Rhakshar at your side."

Zabetha was looking at her with renewed control, listening to Teyla in a way that she likely had never done since they had been small.

"There is so much out there among the stars to see, Zabetha. So much wonder and knowledge to discover and share. You have all that to gain, and you can serve our people by being the strong woman that you are." Teyla smiled hoping to inject some humour into the conversation to chase aware the sad shadows. "And I have seen young reared. They cry constantly, you lose sleep, time and focus. And they are sick almost as much as they cry," she said and Zabetha chuckled. "You never have to worry about the pain of childbirth and its potential complications, so if you choose to adopt a babe, then you will avoid all of that."

Zabetha nodded in agreement, the truth of her loss not gone, but eased Teyla hoped.

"And if that day arrives, I know of many children in need of loving parents such as you and Rhakshar," Teyla continued. "As you may know, I seek to free any children from slavery across the Alliance. I often see babes of all ages in that system, and I strive to free them."

"Do you send them to the free orphanages?" Zabetha asked.

"I try to," Teyla replied. "Sometimes I have to pass them to people I know from various worlds, who I trust will find a safe home for the children. It is one factor of my status as an Elite that serves me well, in that I can purchase any number of these slaves and free them. I just cannot free them all," she admitted.

Zabetha nodded. "It is a matter that I have been in discussion with the trading minister of Rosenthal."

Teyla lifted an eyebrow with interest as she released her sister's hand so that Zabetha's tears could be wiped away again.

"I believe that several major worlds and systems within the Alliance are waking up to the cruelty," Zabetha continued as she dried her eyes on a folded cloth pulled from one of her pockets. Teyla suspected she had dried many tears in the last day.

"That is good to hear," Teyla replied, sensing Zabetha's need to latch onto this direction of conversation.

Zabetha nodded. "And Charin and I are planning to establish a new meeting place on Athos for young mothers who are struggling. I have been talking with several healers and counsellors in Tjaru about it and, once Charin retires, it will be a way she can continue to be active in the community."

"Father tells me that she has declared these latest High Council meetings as her last."

"Yes, and it is past time really," Zabetha replied.

"Is she well from yesterday?"

"She is fine," Zabetha assured her. "I knew that you would worry particularly as you had to leave swiftly to catch who was responsible."

Teyla was grateful in that answer, for Zabetha had not criticised her leaving so fast, which only a few days ago would have been the normal response.

Teyla's stomach grumbled loudly, so she rose up from her chair and headed over to the waiting covered food. "Has she returned to the High Council for their emergency meeting?" She asked as she lifted the first cover and began filling a plate with food. "Do you want any more to eat?"

"No, I am fine for now. She left in the early hours this morning, yes, though she promised to be back tomorrow for the wedding."

"That is good," Teyla replied as she replaced various food covers.

"The consequences of yesterday are not so good though," Zabetha considered as she put her cloth away and picked up her fork again with renewed interest in her food.

Teyla set her plate down on the table and sat back down beside her sister. A new feeling of companionship filled the candlelit atmosphere and Teyla settled comfortably, eager to discuss things with Zabetha. A part of her wondered if she should turn the discussion back to Zabetha's revealed secret, yet she also understood that it was not something her sister should dwell upon too much. What was certain was that in this simple open discussion, the old connection of sisters was reasserting itself, and she wished to hold onto it as long as was possible.

"The High Council will no doubt also be divided about the role of Atlantis in particular," Teyla added.

"True," Zabetha agreed, "but Father's and Charin's standpoint is very firm and I believe that, for now, the distrust for those in Atlantis will not gather into vengeful intentions."

Teyla forked up her first mouthful of food as she considered that. "That is my opinion as well, but the harm has been done, and will likely linger, which is what concerns me somewhat in that it will be a dividing issue against the Military Council."

"That is much of the problem," Zabetha agreed. "For Atlantis, as far as I understand, has worked successfully with the Military several times now."

"Yes," Teyla confirmed. "They have proven themselves worthy allies."

"And perhaps one particular man from Atlantis…" Zabetha said, the end of her words left hanging teasingly.

Teyla was surprised at the comment, so much so that she paused before taking a further bite of her food.

Zabetha chuckled.

"I do not know who you mean," Teyla replied as she nibbled at her food.

"I of course meant Mr Woolsey," Zabetha replied, "Their political advisor, and not the very handsome Major Sheppard with whom you seem to be quite close."

Teyla felt her cheeks warm faintly, but she focused on eating. She chewed for a beat and then glanced at Zabetha out of the corner of her eyes.

Zabetha grinned at her knowingly.

"We are friends, that is all," Teyla replied, but she did allow some of the smile out that teased at her lips.

Zabetha reached out and nudged her arm playfully. "Now, Sister, if we are to become more acquainted with each other once more, we need to be honest with one another. After all I have shared my difficulties with you."

Teyla frowned at her sister's sudden use of her former secret. Yet, she saw the pleasure in Zabetha's face, the sparkle of laughter in her eyes.

If there was ever to be a woman with whom Teyla could share things with, should it not be her sister?

"He is rather handsome, is he not?" Teyla admitted.

Zabetha grinned and nodded as she began to eat again. "I teased Rhakshar only this morning that I might develop a crush of my own on Major Sheppard, for he saved me as well."

"And what did Rhakshar have to say about that?" Teyla asked amused. "When only just woken from his surgery."

"He was refusing to accept the enormity of his brave act," Zabetha replied, the pleasure fading slightly.

"But once you threatened to turn your affection onto another, I am sure he accepted your thanks for his warrior's act," Teyla checked.

Zabetha smiled widely and nodded. "Men are easily made jealous."

"Only those so in love as your soon-to-be husband," Teyla clarified.

"Oh, I do not know, Major Sheppard seems quite enamoured with you."

Teyla frowned with some concern at that. "We are only friends, though that in itself is somewhat controversial considering Atlantis' status with the Alliance. And, as an Elite warrior, I cannot be seen to be flirting with random men, wherever they are from."

"Do not worry, Teyla," Zabetha replied. "It is only those of us who know you as only family can that can see through your Elite mask."

Teyla felt surprisingly pleased at that, not only in that her Elite appearance and behaviour was secure, but that her family could see beyond it. It pleased her like never before. It was not something she had activity sought, yet, she realised that she had missed this, had missed the connection of close family. It was the way of Elite to live away from family, but Teyla had kept finding herself back here in Tjaru. It was plain to her now that she had also been seeking connection with them.

"I am glad to have such family," Teyla shared honestly to her.

Zabetha smiled back, the moment filled with new understanding. They had spoken out loud of what had gone ignored, and though not desperately discussed in detail, it was enough.

"But, I still think a man like Major Sheppard should not be wasted," Zabetha added.

Teyla glared at her, her thoughts mutinously sliding into just what kind of use John could be set to.

"He is a military man from Atlantis," Teyla replied as if that was reason enough for some distance.

Zabetha nodded with some reluctant agreement.

"Not that I have not thought about it," Teyla confessed and Zabetha laughed as she scooped up the last of her food.

"I see that the food is at least being enjoyed," Father's voice arrived moments before him, as he turned into the room.

Ahead of him, moving quickly towards Teyla was Ketra. Bubbling excited noises greeted Teyla as she turned and reached towards her pet and friend.

"She began pining at the door since the moment you left my study," Father said as he headed immediately towards the selection of food. "When I told her sternly to stop it, she came over to sit by my desk and proceeded to stare at me mournfully."

Teyla grinned at his description of Ketra's behaviour as she stroked Ketra's head and snout.

"I promise I will not leave you again," Teyla promised Ketra. "You may stay by my side all the rest of the day."

"Rumour has it that Mino had the guards stationed at the courtyard entrances since yesterday, to watch out for Ketra," Zabetha supplied.

Ketra looked worriedly over her shoulder at the mention of Mino's name and then pressed her warm chin on Teyla's thigh.

"I have still yet to find a way to make adequate amends to Mino," Teyla considered as she picked up her fork and returned to her food whilst keeping one hand on Ketra's head. Ketra burrowed her chin deeper against Teyla.

"She suggested a leash to me," Father supplied as he carried his plate around the end of the table to sit opposite Teyla so that he was at Zabetha's other elbow.

"It would have to be a very strong leash," Zabetha replied doubtfully.

"I suspect her preferred choice would be that Ketra is banned from the complex," Teyla said.

"Well, that will never happen," Father stated. "Any companion of yours is always welcome here."

Teyla was not entirely sure that he meant only Ketra, or perhaps she was simply reading too much into his words following her conversation with Zabetha about John.

Teyla glanced at Zabetha to see that she was looking at her in turn. They both laughed at seeing the same expression on each other's faces, knowing they were thinking the same thing.

Teyla shook her head at herself as she forked up some spice wine vegetables, and then looked up to see Father's surprised happy expression. He looked from her to Zabetha and back again. Then he smiled, widely and warmly, before looking quickly down at his food.

Teyla looked down at her own plate, her heart feeling warm and vulnerable in an entirely new way. Yet, it was a vulnerability that was hardly new, for even Iketani had seen it. The traitor had sought to exploit it, however she had instead created a situation that allowed had Teyla to accept and embrace that element of her life like never before.

Not for the first time did Teyla wonder if it really was best that Elite had little or no contact with their families. Isolation from them made Elite stronger in that there were perhaps less emotional, but it could never remove the need for human love and contact. Massa's loss and pain only proved that, but from that tragedy he was now a father to Aki. Love was there even for Elite and even at the end of the worst of times.

Emotion may be a weakness to a warrior, but, at this moment, Teyla allowed herself to accept her weakness. It was a weakness that was a loving father and sister, a home away from military bunkers and ships, and somewhere where she could sit, relax, and be able to laugh.

Somewhere she could be Teyla, rather than just Honoured Elite Emmagan.

00000  
>TBC<p> 


	34. Gratitude

**Note: **Sorry for the long delay in posting the rest of this fic. The last month has been a difficult one, stresses and so forth, during which my Muse abandoned me. Maybe she needed a holiday. She has returned, though somewhat struggling still, so I have not wanted to post until I had finally completed this fic. Which I have now done, and can confirm that the fic will total 40 chapters. As it is all written, it is just a case of editing and posting, so, all being well, I should get these last chapters out in reasonable time.

Kind thanks to Pdelae for her continuing patience, Foxy for her concern, and Camy for her honest friendship.

**Chapter 34 – Gratitude**

0000

"_My good wishes once more on the impending marriage of your second daughter, I only apologise that I will not be able to attend today._"

"I understand, of course," Torren replied.

"_I understand that Fovea will be remaining for the ceremony?_"

"Yes, she returned here following the emergency meeting of the High Council," Torren replied with controlled patience.

Of the original numbers of officials who had been invited to the original wedding day, just under half had found themselves too busy elsewhere to attend today. Perhaps it was that their very busy schedules did not allow them a mere few hours on Athos for the ceremony, but Torren suspected it was more due to fear. Fear that someone else would be the target of an assassination, despite Athos' heightened security and the Elite's assurances that the culprit had been caught and killed.

The lingering fears among the powerful of the Alliance worried Torren, for not only did it serve to only spread the fear further, but it perhaps suggested that there were many more out among the powerful, the negotiators, ambassadors and advisors, who had had small dealings with the traitor Iketani. Teyla had informed him that the Elite were well aware of those who had been involved with the traitor, but Torren had to wonder at the many others who had simply been quietly 'aware'; those who had stood ready to switch alliances once Iketani had made her move. It was a worrying thought.

"_Then congratulations to your daughter, to yourself and to your great people in the political marriage gained for you this day_." The words sounded faintly tinny over the communications speaker set into the wall beside the large screen, but it was the lack of real emotion behind the practiced words that was far more irritating for Torren.

"Thank you," Torren replied, smiling and inclining his head. "I will look forward to our next meeting."

"_And I_," the man replied formally and the link cut abruptly.

Torren's patient smile dropped as soon as the screen went dark.

He tapped the display and ran back through the long list of communications he had received in the last two days. He had personally replied to each and it had become wearisome. However, looking at his list, he confirmed that he had now responded to everything that required his personal attention. Hakon had handled the responses that had not required verbal conversation, so that now, finally, it appeared that all was complete. Torren could now finally turn his full attention on the wedding day.

The complex was still reasonably full with political visitors, those being 'brave' enough to remain on Athos, all of who were holding discussions between themselves over various political issues. Despite the love between Zabetha and Rhakshar, this was still a political marriage and therefore the occasion for all manner of negotiations and meetings to occur. Most of the meeting rooms throughout the complex had been given over to the various visitors, Fovea, High Councillor of Xinda, having been given the largest in which to hold her meetings.

Torren had kept out of the discussions thus far, for his duties had been focused on responding to the many messages and clearing his workload so that he could be free to enjoy the rest of the day without interruption. Hopefully.

The wedding ceremony was not due to start for a further three hours, if not more, depending on if the healers would be happy for Rhakshar to leave the clinic long enough for his wedding. Rhakshar was desperately determined to stand in the gathering courtyard for the ceremony, which Torren could understand, but the man had suffered a deep wound. Zabetha had tried to insist that the ceremony itself could be held by his hospital bed, but Rhakshar had made the valid point that their wedding should be witnessed by those in power. Torren suspected that Rhakshar's argument was born more from his own desire to restore as much normality to their marriage as was possible following what had happened on the day of the carnival. The official pictures could easily be taken with them seated on a stone bench and the ceremony itself was not overly long, so Torren hoped that Rhakshar would be well enough for that.

A light tap on his office door drew Torren's attention away from his idle thoughts. He turned, but already knew who it might be, for no one else but family tapped on his door at the same time as they opened it.

Charin's smiling elderly face appeared around the door. "Are you free to speak to an old woman?" She joked, the words a long held amusement between them, but now were far too close to truth for his ease.

"Of course, at any time," Torren told her, feeling his former political worries sliding away. "I had heard that you had returned only an hour ago."

"Yes," Charin replied as she made her way into the room, heading for the chair that she preferred, which sat by his desk angled for maximum view of the courtyard outside. "I went directly to visit Rhakshar and Zabetha."

"Of course," Torren replied as he turned his attention back to his work screen, closing menus and shutting it down. "I visited Rhakshar after first meal. I assume he is still doing well?"

"He is a strong young man," Charin replied with clear approval. She had liked Rhakshar from the start, and had been the first to point out to Torren that Zabetha might already favour Rhakshar if a political marriage was to be considered. Typically, Charin's wisdom had been proven correct.

"And Zabetha?" Torren asked as he moved across the room to sit in a chair closer to hers, not liking to sit behind his desk when talking with her.

"Her concern for her soon-to-be husband is still there, but I fear it is more pre-wedding concerns that are worrying her today," Charin replied with a smile.

"I heard that the dress issue had been dealt with," Torren asked.

"Yes it has been resolved and the dress is beautiful, but it was not the issue at hand when I visited her. Your youngest daughter is simply going through what all new brides go through; worries of the ceremony, of the details of words and appearances, and that she will not fall over while everyone is watching."

Torren frowned at Charin's soft laughter. "She need not worry about such things; Zabetha is the most elegant of women."

Charin gave him an amused smile. "As I said, it is something that only new brides can understand. I have done my best to reassure her."

Torren nodded, wondering if perhaps he should visit Zabetha. He had tried to stay out of her way, for she had seemed to have everything so tightly organised, as always.

"If Tagan were here…," he uttered, the grief for his lost wife had felt so much stronger these last days. A daughter should have her mother by her side on her wedding day. A father was not the same.

"I know that you all miss her today, more than ever," Charin said softly.

It was only with Charin that Torren spoke of his own grief openly, and since Charin had known Tagan so well herself, she understood. She shared the grief.

Torren nodded, the emotion rising in his throat surprisingly strong with Charin's sympathy. He cleared his throat and blinked his eyes dry before looking over at her. She smiled sadly at him with just the perfect amount of understanding and strength in her expression.

"The healers still agree that he will be let out of the clinic for the ceremony?" Torren asked, turning the conversation away from emotional matters.

"With reluctance. However, I suspect Teyla's opinion held some sway with them," Charin replied as she adjusted her skirts and settled deeper into the plush cushions of her favoured chair. She looked back to him, everything she was thinking clear in her eyes for him to see. They knew each other so well that she almost did not need to say the words. "It seems that Zabetha and Teyla are closer today."

Torren nodded as he smiled. "Zabetha has finally spoken to Teyla about her health, and I believe that Teyla in turn has spoken frankly with Rhakshar. I am not sure what was said between the three of them, but it is as if something heavy and destructive has been washed away from our home."

"I am relieved, but not surprised. The day would always come when your daughters would find their way back to their childhood bond once more," Charin smiled, her thinning skin showing the shape of her cheekbones clearly.

She looked tired, as was common with her, but she looked stronger now than she had last year. Her surgery on Rosenthal had made a considerable difference to her health, of which Torren was deeply grateful.

"How was your last session with the High Council?" He asked.

Her expression told him her answer before she gave it.

"The emergency meeting went well enough," she replied carefully, her political wording returning without thought. "And almost as we expected."

Torren angled his head, waiting for more.

"The divisions were clear, those fearful and those calling for stability. The revelation of an Elite traitor was a shock to all, but I suspect it will not rebound against the Elite themselves. The suspicion was instead mostly directed towards the Military Council and Atlantis. As we expected, most are nervous of Atlantis, and suspicious at the timing of their rescue of us, but not of Garthew. That it was Elite warriors who captured the assassin of Garthew has not helped in that regard."

"Rosenthal believe Atlantis planned to save us but not Garthew?" Torren asked.

"It was one of many theories thrown loudly around the Council hall," Charin replied with deep frown. "Aguisel is the loudest of those against Atlantis. If he had his way, the Elite would lead the entire Military Fleet across the galaxy to storm Atlantis and claim the fabled city."

"He wants the Ancestral city for himself; he has been expressing that view since we first learnt of Atlantis' discovery by those from Earth."

"Indeed, however, he grown support among the very devout of followers of the Ancestors, who say that the city should not be in the hands of those from another galaxy."

"I understand from those of Atlantis that the city had once sat on Earth itself," Torren added with curious interest.

Charin lifted an eyebrow, but continued. "It would not matter to the followers of Aguisel, they would argue for their way regardless of what Atlantis' story may be. The new High Councillor for Rosenthal has been named. Nolfi is to stand in Garthew's place, and I suspect that he will be somewhat against Atlantis from past discussions I have had with him. The Genii and the Vancet are also very much anti-Atlantis, but their concerns are more of Alliance security, seeing Atlantis as a military threat to us."

Torren nodded, storing away all her information.

"Otherwise most are undecided. The fact that I, and Fovea, spoke out strongly in defence of Atlantis, citing their warriors' brave actions, helped considerably, I believe. We also pointed out that the Elite traitor was responsible for the murder of four Atlantis warriors, yet we were not being blamed by Atlantis."

"A fair point."

"I suspect Fovea and I made a difference to some, but I believe few have the intent as Aguisel to wage war against Atlantis. Fovea reminded the council that it was not the way of the Alliance to battle humans who themselves fight the Wraith so successfully."

No the Alliance had been built on that very common ground – alliance to battle back against the Wraith, to follow as the first Elite did, in fighting back. On those grounds alone, Atlantis' presence should be welcomed with open arms. However, life was not that simple in the Alliance anymore.

"The fact that the Elite have worked with Atlantis several times," Charin continued, "was also cited officially, which I believe has swayed many votes. One surprising figure of support in favour of the Elite's faith in Atlantis was Telson. He spoke overly long on the strength and value of the Elite, and that he would put his world's faith behind the Elite's guidance."

Torren was surprised by that. Telson was a strong, highly respected member of the High Council, but he had had strong resistance to the formation of the Military Council.

"He still clearly has his doubts over the Military Council's performance and demands, but regarding the Elite he seems to have placed far more faith than ever before." Charin's suspicion was clear in her voice.

"Perhaps the Elite have spoken with him personally in the past, possibly regarding his involvement with the traitor?" Torren considered.

"That was my thought as well," Charin replied.

"And what was agreed regarding an internal investigation of the High Council's involvement with the traitor?"

"It was mentioned and pushed louder by some, but has clear resistance by those who argued that it is important not to destabilise the peoples' faith in the High Council."

"That is worrying," Torren uttered.

"The investigation will go ahead, but there was considerable discussion over who should lead the enquiry. The Military Council would normally investigate breaches in security, but, on this, the High Council did not want their involvement. It was decided that the Elite would be asked to conduct the investigation."

Torren grinned at that. "I am sure that will worry some."

"I suspect that you are correct, and I saw some pale expressions, but my feeling is that the Elite have already done their investigations long before now."

Torren nodded his agreement, thinking again of Teyla's former faint dislike of Garthew.

"Ultimately it was decided that in regards to Atlantis, the Alliance would continue as before in dealing with them."

"Which means ignoring them," Torren concluded with disappointment.

"Yes, though I, with the support of six other systems, made sure that individual trade agreements could be made with Atlantis, as long as it did not threaten the security of the Alliance," Charin added, lifting Torren's mood somewhat.

"Thank you."

Charin inclined her head. "However, I feel that suspicion and watchfulness will remain the main stay for the High Council with regards to Atlantis, and that only a few of us will openly trade with them. I am not sure that will sway the overall opinion of Atlantis."

Torren smiled at her. "Give it time, Charin. Through trading friendships I have seen wonders worked."

Charin smiled at him, as a mother would a child. "Do you miss your old profession of trader, Torren?"

"I am still a trader, just a trader of politics, of words and promises," he told her with a smile.

Charin grinned at him, her eyes bright. She looked more relaxed than he had seen her in a long time. She still had a few duties in handing over her position as High Councillor of Athos, but he could see already that a large weight had been lifted from her with the surrender of her work. He knew her retirement would add years to her life, and how could he ever regret that.

"I am going to have great difficulty replacing you, Charin," he told her honestly.

"I am sure you have several candidates already in mind. However, perhaps it has not been the best time for my retirement," she added with a faint frown.

"I believe it is the perfect time," Torren replied immediately, not wishing her to worry. "You have served our people for long enough, and it is time that you relax and finally enjoy your retirement. Much is changing in the Alliance, and it is time to let another Councillor worry rather than you," he added.

She nodded, setting her chin on her hand, but her expression seemed distant. "Days of change will always come to pass, but in these new changes there is much that worries me," she said softly, now with the tone of a confidant and friend. "Sitayi once described the Alliance as being like one of the shimmering webs her people construct. Do you know them?"

"I do," Torren replied. They were beautiful artworks, strung up between trees, constructed using many threads of strong string to create a large web, into which were knotted small pieces of crystal, clay figures, small peddles, metal chimes, and feathers. As the construction was a web, the wind was allowed to channel through the web strung up between the trees, which caused the breeze to stir music from the chimes and send colourful light sparkling through the pieces of crystal.

"She told me that each part of the Alliance was like one of the small objects that are apart of the web lattice, but that it was the lengths of thread between them that actually created the web of the Alliance. I understood her words then, but now, after watching the strong divisions growing among the High Council, I believe I understand her point more than before."

Torren remained quiet, in his mind picturing one of the shimmering webs.

"If the threads begin to weaken, or even break, the web will lose its beauty, its strength, and if one sudden unexpected gust occurs, it could tear the web apart."

Torren felt a chill against the back of his neck. Sitayi had spoken to him of a great darkness that was growing within the Alliance, threatening to break it apart from the inside out. He did not speak of Sitayi' prophesies to others, but that Charin was sharing this with him now, he felt it was appropriate to compare notes.

"She described the Alliance to me as being like a vase, through which fracture lines were forming, growing and spreading. She advised me to work to help glue the pieces together, to hold fast the vase."

Charin nodded. "Each thread within the web must be strong, holding fast to the other threads around it. If her prediction of a great gust of a threatening event does occur, and the Alliance is weak…"

Torren nodded, worry niggling at him. He had spent the last two days worrying far too much, and this was not assisting his calm. "Which is why trade agreements are so vital for our people, and now beyond the border with Atlantis."

"Yet I worry, Torren, if Atlantis becomes a dividing issue for the High Council… It is perhaps more important to hold fast the ties we already have rather than seek out those that are new," Charin suggested.

Torren frowned, glancing away thoughtfully. Her point had value perhaps, but it surprised him for he had thought her an advocate of trade with Atlantis.

"What did you think of Colonel Carter?" He asked. Charin had not remained long on Athos following the assassination attempt on her life, needing instead to travel to the emergency meeting of the High Council, but she had spoken a short time with Colonel Carter.

"I liked her," Charin stated immediately. "She seems an unusual woman, able to combine a warrior's nature, with that of a scientist and leader."

Torren nodded. He had liked Colonel Carter the moment he had met her, her beauty aside. She had travelled to visit him only hours after the incident at the carnival, with open words, direct eye contact, and a willingness to sit and talk with him. She had a fast mind behind her strong blue eyes, and a smile that conveyed honest confidence.

"Sitayi told me that Atlantis would be a vital part of the future, especially with the Elite," Torren told Charin quietly, his thoughts returning to his conversation with Sitayi, when they had stood alone in the moonlit sparring courtyard.

Sitayi had told him to trust his first initial feelings, his own inner judgement, and his instincts told him to trust those from Atlantis. He felt in his soul that they were the future, that they would be important. These were cousins from across the stars, living in the Ancestral city, how could they not be important and worthy of respect and friendship?

And especially so the friendship between Teyla and Major Sheppard. If it was to remain, or still was, a simple friendship. Torren had seen the sparkle between them, the attention to one another that was only present between those strongly attracted to one another. To see Teyla so clearly drawn to a man remained a surprise and concern for Torren, but in Major Sheppard he had considerable faith, despite the short time he had known him. The man had saved Zabetha, Charin, and even Torren himself. In that, Major Sheppard had proven himself in ways that no man should ever have to.

Teyla clearly favoured him as well - perhaps more than it was wise for her to, considering their differing lives and her own dangerous career. Yet, Torren would have her happy, even if it was in the short term. She deserved to have a companion who understood her life more than most, who might care for her when time allowed. He could not begrudge her that, even though his fatherly heart mixed with his political heart and saw potential dangers ahead for them.

Only Sitayi had known that, had seen his fears before even _he_ had discovered them, and she had already provided him with the advice he needed. He trusted her skills, her gift, and if she saw their relationship as important, and in need of privacy, then Torren would heed her advice. After all, Teyla was wise beyond her years and Major Sheppard had saved his family and now would be as well in his home as any of his closest friends.

However, Torren had a gift of his own – a way of seeing the potential issues of any given negotiation. He had always been able to think ahead, to consider how others would react, and plan moves ahead of others. Now that skill quietly predicted, with the aching heart of a father, that there would be emotional pain ahead for the couple. After all, Teyla was ultimately, beyond anything else, an Elite warrior. Nothing would ever pull her away from that, and Torren suspected that there were few men in any of the galaxies who if caring for her deeply would not wish for her safety beyond all else. Torren struggled with it daily still and he knew that he would struggle with it through all the rest of his days, even if she were taken from this life before him, for there had been a moment in which he knew he could have denied the Elite his eldest daughter, his position could have allowed it. But, he had known her choice, perhaps even before she had. It had been clear from very early on that she had been chosen for a different kind of life than as a trader or even a leader. She was meant to be the skilled and powerful warrior that she had become. That truth stayed with him everyday. It was a burden, which Torren realised now, that he wished he could save Major Sheppard from, for it was a heavy burden to carry.

"You seem troubled, Torren," Charin asked softly, her presence returning into his awareness. He had been sat staring off through the closed glass doors to his private courtyard, lost in his thoughts. He looked round at her now and smiled.

"Just thinking over the struggles of what it is to be a father."

Charin smiled at him. "Both of your daughters are strong, able, and love you dearly. You are the most loving of fathers, to hand your daughters away."

Torren frowned at her words, so close to his previous thoughts.

"Zabetha to Rhakshar, and Teyla to the Elite," Charin continued and reached out across the distance between their chairs.

He sat forward to took her hand in his. He held her hand gratefully, and she set her other hand over his, smiling lovingly at him.

"I am so glad that you will be on Athos so much more," Torren told her. "I suspect I will need your company more now that Zabetha is to be married."

Charin rubbed her hand over his. "Perhaps it is time that you looked to your own happy future, Torren," she suggested softly.

His heart constricted at the thought. She had never spoken to him of this before now, though he had sensed her concern for him for some time. He was tempted to pull back and make excuses to move the conversation on, but this was Charin. She was like a mother to him.

"I can never replace Tagan," he told her, his eyes dropping to their clasped hands.

"No one is asking you to."

He acknowledged her point, but he had no more words on the matter.

"Finding affection with another will not deny your love for Tagan," Charin said gently. "We both know she would not wish you to be alone."

Torren glanced away at that. He did not know that to be so. "But, I wish to be alone, now that she is gone."

He glanced back to Charin, felt her hand tighten on his, and he saw tears in her eyes. It shocked him more than his own admission. He could not remember seeing her cry for many years, not since that last great culling.

She held his gaze, then smiled sadly and nodded. "Then you will have to suffice with my repeated tales into my eldest years," she squeezed his hand with more strength than he had thought her able, and released his hand, sitting back in her chair again.

"I am happy to hear all your tales, over and over again," he told her, remaining sat forward to be nearer to her.

"Good," she replied. "And you can also help me with my new project."

"Oh?" He asked. "Is this to be the work in the cities Zabetha has mentioned?"

"This is a different project; I think it high time that we find Hakon a wife."

Torren laughed at that. "I would agree with you, but I believe that he is somewhat already married to his work."

"No one is so lost to obsessive work that they cannot find someone to love," Charin replied though Torren immediately related her words to Teyla rather than Hakon. "For even Mino found time to marry."

Torren grinned at that. "Yes, but Galt is a unique man, as patient and unspeaking as the structures he builds."

"They still managed to create three children," Charin pointed out.

"And all three of them have become skilled in both building and gardening. Though I believe Youngest Galt to be on his way to becoming an excellent bantos fighter."

"Exactly, so it is time Hakon be prised away from his computer tablet for even one evening."

Torren smiled at her, agreeing somewhat with her, knowing that they both considered Hakon to be as family.

"If you must interfere in his life, at least make sure that he stays in Tjaru, for I do not believe I could run this place without him," Torren pointed out.

"Very well," Charin replied, looking thoughtful. "I have a few local women already in mind."

"As long as one of them is not Teyla," he joked with her.

Charin grinned at him. "Of course not, not unless the first time he speaks her name out loud would be at their marriage ceremony."

Torren laughed with her, picturing Hakon struggling not to call her Honoured Elite Emmagan.

A sharp knock at the study door broke their laughter, but the interruption was very fitting for Torren already recognised who it was from the distinctive knock.

"Enter, Hakon," Torren called.

Hakon entered with a smile, clearly pleased to see Torren and Charin in good spirits.

"Hakon, it is good to see you," Charin greeted him. "I was planning to arrange time to visit with you."

"I always welcome your company, Charin," Hakon replied as he moved towards them, smiling happily at her request. "Perhaps tomorrow?

"Charin has a most important project she needs to discuss with you, Hakon," Torren announced.

"Really?" Hakon asked with interest, unaware of the true nature of Charin's project, but his smile slipped back into his focused work expression. "However, it will have to wait, as the group from Atlantis are here, Torren."

Torren glanced at his desk, surprised at the time that had passed in easy conversation with Charin. "They are in the entrance hall?"

"Yes," Hakon replied as Torren rose from his seat. "The Scherlan ambassadors have finished in the garden meeting room, perhaps it would be best to take them there?"

The room allocation in the complex was considerably tight with so many meetings being held today, so Torren readily agreed with Hakon's assessment. "Good, yes, have new tea delivered there. Is Representative Jalada still in the room?"

"She is close by, walking with her mate and Representative Sitayi to the gathering courtyard to watch the final preparations for the wedding."

"Will you invite them to the garden meeting room then, if they wish to meet with those from Atlantis again," Torren instructed, moving towards the door only to pause. "Charin, would you like to join us?"

She smiled up at him as she carefully rose to her feet, both Torren and Hakon moving faintly towards her to help her stand, but she had managed it easily without their assistance. She was clearly much stronger than before her surgery. It pleased Torren considerably.

"No, thank you, Torren. My days of political discussions have passed. I will instead go and support Zabetha through her pre-wedding worries. After all, I am sure Teyla will not be so useful in such matters."

"I believe Honoured Elite Emmagan is in the sparring courtyard," Hakon informed them helpfully.

"That would be _Teyla_, yes?" Torren teased Hakon.

"Yes, Torren," Hakon replied not even attempting to hide his dramatic eye roll, which made Charin chuckle.

"Do not let him tease you, Hakon," Charin said as they all left the study. Torren led the way, but he overheard Hakon's reply to Charin behind him.

"Do not worry for me, Charin, for I have my ways of retaliating. Such as scheduling Ambassador Keltree in with him right after a meeting with the granary stores supervisors."

Torren glared at him over his shoulder. Hakon smiled innocently back at him.

Charin parted from them at the first corridor junction, heading towards the Family area to seek out Zabetha, while they continued on towards the entrance hall.

"Who is among the Atlantis group today?" Torren asked.

"Our usual visitors; Mr Woolsey, Major Sheppard, and guarded by Major Lorne and Lieutenant Martins."

"Good," Torren replied.

He was glad that Major Sheppard was here today, for Torren had not had time to thank the Major personally for his noble actions during the carnival. The Major's presence today was most fitting for if it had not been for him, Zabetha likely would not have lived to enjoy her wedding ceremony today.

Torren had almost lost his youngest daughter, the sister who was considered to be in the far safer career.

The guards at the end of the corridor swept open the doors ahead of him, revealing the entrance hall beyond. Already Torren could see the small familiar group from Atlantis stood in the middle of the wide entrance. It seemed that they were nearly always stood in the same manner each time he met with them. Mr Woolsey always stood quite centrally in the entrance hall, seeming slightly anxious, but confident. Behind him always stood his guards, today again Major Lorne and Lieutenant Martins. The two guards stood in a relaxed enough position, their hands resting on the bulky Earth weapons attached to their fronts, both calm yet watchful.

And to the right of Mr Woolsey, slightly removed from the rest, stood Major Sheppard. He always seemed far more engaged with the entrance hall, usually stood staring up at the murals, no doubt studying all the varied detail. Even now, having studied the murals himself for years, Torren could still discover some small detail in the paintings that he had not seen before. Major Sheppard always seemed very curious in what was around him, studying everything with intelligent interest, and when he smiled it was always far warmer than Mr Woolsey's honest, yet political smile.

"Greetings," Torren welcomed them as he exited the corridor and entered the entrance hall. "It is good to see you all well."

Torren extended his hand to each in turn in their cultural greeting.

"Thank you for receiving us back so quickly following the events the other day," Mr Woolsey began as Torren shook his hand. "Colonel Carter asked me to pass along her greetings to you, and she has authorised me to conduct any negotiations for trade."

Torren inclined his head. "I am honoured."

He had expected as much, for his meeting with Colonel Carter had been far more insightful than his meetings with Mr Woolsey. The Colonel had been far more forthright, explaining Atlantis' situation and giving her clear approval for trade with Athos. Torren wished that his negotiations and dealings with Atlantis could be conducted with her, a far more direct and concise individual, but he could work well enough with Mr Woolsey.

Torren greeted Major Lorne and Lieutenant Martins next, and only then moved to shake Major Sheppard's hand.

"Major Sheppard, I am most grateful for your presence here today. I did not have the opportunity to thank you personally for your brave and noble actions which saved my family."

"I was happy to help," Major Sheppard replied, in his usual affable way, clearly not wishing to draw great attention to his deeds.

"Help you did," Torren continued as they released their handshake. "You saved my youngest daughter's life, as well as Charin's and my own. I have no words that are sufficient to thank you, only to say that, from this day forward, you will always be welcome here on Athos. Regardless of means or need, you are free to visit us at any time. These doors are always open to you."

The Major looked surprised for a moment, but smiled quickly. "You really don't have to…"

"It is the way of my people, you saved ones I love, so I would have you always welcome here," Torren replied quickly, his words solemn and meaningful. He wanted to make it clear to this man how important his deeds had been. To a military man it was probably common enough to save others' lives, but not here, not in Torren's home. He would honour such an act, as was tradition, and as his own feelings demanded.

"Thank you, Leader Torren," Major Sheppard replied with more solemnity this time.

Torren smiled at him, reaching out with both hands. "It is also tradition that I might offer my respect to you in the Athosian way."

Major Sheppard had likely seen the greeting many times in his visits to Athos, but Torren paused with his hands reaching towards the man's shoulders. It may well be not of Earth culture for him to respond.

"If I may," Torren offered, happy if the Major would not wish it.

"Sure," Major Sheppard responded with a slight awkwardness, but he reached out in turn as Torren set his hands on the man's shoulders. Strong hands gently touched against Torren's own shoulders.

Torren leant his head forward and carefully Major Sheppard returned the action, the top of his forehead dipping to touch against Torren's.

Torren could tell that this was a more intimate greeting than those from Earth enjoyed, especially if it was one man to another he suspected, as he knew was an issue for some other cultures within the Alliance. Yet, Torren offered his respect with the bowing of his head, and in that moment of brief contact, his hands on the Major Sheppard's high wide shoulders, he had a fuller sense of the man.

Sitayi had told him to continue to trust his inner knowing, his instincts, and in this short moment, he knew that Sitayi had been right: Major Sheppard was important. There was something very powerful about him, not that Torren could define how he judged such a sense, but it was there, confirming to Torren his own sense of respect for this warrior from another galaxy.

They parted their foreheads, Major Sheppard's hands leaving his shoulders immediately, but Torren remained still a moment longer, looking up at the younger man, Sitayi' words echoing again in his mind. Torren smiled, squeezed the warrior's lean but strong shoulders and dropped his hands.

"How's Rhakshar doing?" Major Sheppard asked quickly.

"He is doing very well, thank you," Torren replied. "In fact, he and Zabetha will be marrying in just under three hours' time. They both hope, as I do, that you all might be able to attend the ceremony?"

Torren made sure to look to Mr Woolsey as he offered the invitation, though he knew that it was Major Sheppard who Zabetha and Rhakshar particularly wished to invite to the ceremony.

"We would be very honoured," Mr Woolsey replied, clearly indeed honoured and surprised.

Torren nodded, pleased, and he glanced back to Major Sheppard only to register that there was something down on the floor by the Major's boot. Looking down, Torren saw a rectangular carry case holding two potted plants, both in bloom with pale beautiful blossoms.

Torren's instant thought was that they were a gift for Teyla, but then he realised the significance of the blossoms. He smiled up at Major Sheppard.

"Am I right to assume these are intended for Mino's courtyard?"

Major Sheppard smiled in response, glancing down at them. "They're a gift from Ketra, to make amends for what she did."

Torren grinned at him, abruptly liking this man even more. "I am sure they will be well welcomed, by both Ketra and Mino."

"Hopefully. They're from Earth, so I, and Honoured Elite Emmagan, thought that they would make a good addition to Mino's collection."

Torren nodded with understanding. "A very generous gift from your people."

Torren suspected that this gift had been solely instigated by Major Sheppard and not by any other from Atlantis. It was an interesting gift from a warrior.

Torren glanced down at the pretty flowers again and suspected further that though they were meant for Ketra and Mino, surely his first thought was also true – that the person they were truly intended to impress was Teyla. An old memory played through Torren's thoughts, of picking a handful of bright hedgerow flowers for Tagan and carrying them carefully back from the fields to give to her. He had been nervous all the way, desperately not wanting to be seen by another man who would tease him for the overly romantic gesture.

"Hakon," Torren called, glancing back to his assistant who was stood a short distance away. "Where is Honoured Elite Emmagan currently?"

"I believe she is still in the sparring courtyard," Hakon replied as he tapped away on his computer interface.

"Will you let her know that Major Sheppard is here," Torren instructed and then glanced past the group from Atlantis to where Abas was watching with interest. "Guard Abas, would you escort Major Sheppard to the sparring courtyard for his meeting with Honoured Elite Emmagan?"

"Of course," Abas replied with a deep dip of his head, the young man always willing and eager to please.

Torren met Major Sheppard's eyes again and smiled. "I am sure you and Honoured Elite Emmagan have much to discuss following your recent victory alongside the Elite."

It was true enough and a good enough excuse why Major Sheppard could meet with Teyla apart from the other politicians. After all, Torren understood the awkwardness for a man who was delivering flowers to a woman.

Major Sheppard nodded his agreement, but there was a new touch of wariness in his expression, which suggested that he was slightly suspicious at Torren's choice. Torren hid his amusement with practiced ease as he turned towards Mr Woolsey.

"Mr Woolsey, we are meeting with several Representatives familiar to you before the wedding ceremony begins, would you care to join us?"

"Thank you, yes we would be delighted," Mr Woolsey replied with a warmer smile as he fell into step with Torren as they moved away from Major Sheppard towards the far exit that would take them towards the garden meeting room. Major Lorne and Lieutenant Martins fell into step behind them.

Behind them, Torren heard Hakon confirm to Major Sheppard that Teyla would meet him in the sparring courtyard.

"Thank you," the Major replied.

Torren looked back over his shoulder as he and his guests left the entrance hall, to see Hakon following his party, whereas Abas had stepped up beside Major Sheppard.

The tall Major stooped to pick up the carry case of flowering plants and began to walk with Abas towards the other exit from the entrance hall, his eyes forward and the plants held close to his leg.

With a controlled smile, Torren looked away and tuned back into the questions Mr Woolsey was asking him. Torren answered with practiced ease, but his private thoughts were otherwise occupied.

Thinking on it thoroughly, as far as he was aware, since her childhood and since becoming an Elite warrior, Teyla, the famous Honoured Elite warrior, had never once had a man bring her flowers before.

0000  
>TBC<p> 


	35. Reunion

**Note: **Thank you for the lovely and amazingly supportive reviews for that last chapter! I'm touched that so many of you are so willing to read this fic after a long break. Though following posting that last chapter, my computer's power cable blew, along with sparks and the nasty scent of electrical burning in the air! So I've been without a computer for the last few days, desperately missing it, and I've only just now gotten back on line – so glad to be back on the web! I had planned to post two more chapters by now, but here's one new one at least until I get the next part edited.

**Chapter 35 – Reunion**

00000

John felt awkward and conspicuous carrying the plants down the long busy corridor along which Abas was leading him. The few times John had walked down this corridor before, it had been quiet with only a handful of guards tactfully stood outside a closed door here or there. Today however, people were bustling along the corridor, most of them carrying stacks of plates, cups, or pieces of furniture. Clearly the whole place was rushing to set up ready for the wedding in a few hours time.

"Sure is busy," John remarked to Abas, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the shouted instructions emanating from an open door into which most of the plate laden Athosians were disappearing. Most of them barely noticed John and Abas' approach, though a few dipped their heads politely. John held the plants a little closer to his leg. They'd probably just think they were a wedding present or something.

"Yes, very busy," Abas replied in his ever eager tone as he walked with an obvious bounce in his steps, "with the location of the wedding ceremony and feast now to be held in the complex."

"So, no big wedding out in the park after all?" John asked, as they both paused to allow the two Athosians ahead of them to persuade a large table in through the busy doorway.

"No. Following the events at the carnival," Abas replied with a more sombre tone, "it was thought best to keep the ceremony smaller, more private and secure."

John nodded his agreement as they continued on, the large table now mostly through the doorway. John peered into the room as they passed though, and he saw a series of tables set to one side of a large room inside. There were masses of plates and glasses, vases full of bright yellow flowers, and a lot of harassed looking Athosians.

"With the groom's injuries also to be considered, it was felt that a smaller ceremony closer to the clinic would be best," Abas continued.

Ahead two gardeners, the uniform now familiar to John, were walking towards them, both laden down with massively large stems of green leafy plants. The women could barely see around the mass of vegetation they were carrying. John switched his plants' carry case to his other hand as subtly as possible, hoping the women wouldn't notice them.

It had been a simple enough idea to find Teyla some sort of plants from Earth that had flowers close enough to blossoms, to be passed on to Mino. He had sought out Rodney's girlfriend Katie Brown in the botany department yesterday, and had asked her opinion as to any Earth plants that would do as a gift to Athos. He had almost expected her to say that they didn't have any of the more pretty Earth plants in the city, but she had said they were currently cultivating various tree and bush saplings, something about hydroponics and crossbreeding with Pegasus plants. He hadn't really listened to the whole explanation, but she had seemed hopeful at finding him something for today.

He had returned to the botany lab this morning before the mission here, to find that the entire botany department had gotten involved in the plant selection. The head of the department had personally taken an involvement, her entire staff all adding ideas, and they had even force grown several plants overnight so that they would have blossoms for today. With her entire staff eagerly watching, the head of department had led him to a table of potted plants, all lined up ready for his inspection. He hadn't understood any of the technical babble the botanist had supplied about each plant, but he had managed to pick two that seemed the prettiest, and which he was assured would do well in the reported environment of Athos.

A specially designed carry case for the plants had been produced, the pots slid into it, and a small tablet containing all the technical information on the two plants had also been added. The entire department had then escorted him, and his flowers, to the door, all eager to hear how the plants would be received by the Athosians. Clearly the head of the department was hoping for a visit to the Athosian blossom courtyard at some point, and had seemed desperately excited to talk plants with Mino. John had promised he would mention it to Woolsey for her.

He had then had to carry the flowering plants to the Gate room and all the way to Tjaru, whilst withstanding the ribbing from Lorne and Martins at the "pretty flowers", along with their insinuations about his intentions towards Teyla and, worryingly, Mino. They had thought that funny, and had taken every opportunity to tease him about his 'feelings' for the scary gardener, Abas traitorously joining in as he had led them back into Tjaru.

John glanced at Abas next to him and saw him smile brightly at one of the gardeners in particular, turning turned slightly as they passed so that he could exchange a few words with the woman. John couldn't see much of her, overwhelmed with leaves and stems as she was, but he had seen sparkling eyes.

Abas looked back round, his smile victoriously hopeful. John resisted the urge to make a comment, though he did lift an eyebrow at the younger man as he looked at John.

Abas cleared his throat. "As I was saying, the complex is indeed very busy today, and almost every room is occupied either with preparations for the ceremony and feast, or with meetings between the various political guests."

"Because it's a political marriage," John said, remembering the details Teyla had told him. The marriage between Zabetha and Rhakshar had been based on forming political connections.

John imagined there were many negotiations going on in the meeting rooms of the complex, politicians hashing out trade agreements and arguing points that no simple marriage ceremony would just miraculously create. As much as John didn't like the whole political world, he had learnt the value of it while living in Atlantis. Over the last two years, he had seen first Elizabeth, then Colonel Carter, and now Mr Woolsey work to make nice with people, setting up trade and alliances that had served Atlantis well enough so far. Trading with Athos could turn out to be one of the best moves they could make as though, as not only was fresh food on the trading table, but also connections inside the Alliance. From there, who knew what could happen, maybe even some eventual access into some of that impressive Alliance advanced technology? Just as long as the High Council didn't suddenly decide that Atlantis was a major threat that needed to be dealt with.

John had seen what the Alliance's Military fleet could do to an enemy planet. They wouldn't need to break through Atlantis' shield; they could bombard the planet until it was uninhabitable. Until the atmosphere itself caught fire and died. Without enough power for the city's hyperdrive, the shield would only delay the city's destruction, until it drained the very last of the ZPM's power and the city would be destroyed along with the planet.

John could pretend to himself that would never happen to Atlantis, that things were good here on Athos, and with the Elite, but they were only a small part of the Alliance whole. If the Alliance turned on Atlantis, they were in trouble.

There was a sudden crash of falling glass from the room back down the corridor, followed by some shouted words that, from the volume and context, John guessed to be Athosian swear words.

John controlled his smile as he glanced at Abas. "A flat footed what?"

Abas looked down and away, though he was smiling. "I am sure all is under control."

They took a right turn off the long corridor about three quarters of the way down its long length, and started a series of turns afterwards, reminding John again how complicated the layout of this place was. As they walked, they passed more of the complex's staff, mostly moving furniture, but there were some political types among the crowd, who John recognised from the banquet a few nights ago. He made sure to smile and nod politely to them, and was deeply grateful that none of them wanted to stop to talk to him. And he also held the plants close against his leg all the time, hoping they would be seen as unimportant – just a part of the wedding decoration.

Abas supplied a running commentary the entire way on the details of the wedding day, of which John barely took in any details, but nodded along. Finally, they turned into a corridor that John recognised and round a last corner, as he predicted, he saw the promise of sunlight at the far end of the corridor which led out into the sparring courtyard.

There was no wedding activity in this last corridor, just John and Abas striding along towards the open end through which John could see the pavings stones of the covered side of the sparring courtyard. Beside him, John was aware that Abas had fallen silent and was clearly holding himself taller on their way to meet up with Teyla.

It took John a second to notice something else about the silence – there were no sounds of clashing bantos rods ahead. He had wondered if Teyla would be teaching some bantos finalists again, but he couldn't hear anything ahead. Well, nothing except the gentle sound of insects buzzing and the chirping of distant birds, no doubt from above the sand covered open sparring area.

Then abruptly, Teyla stepped into view at the end of the corridor.

She was dressed in dark tones as usual, but today she wasn't wearing one of her full body suits, which she seemed to prefer lately. Today, she wore tight dark brown trousers, closely snug at her hips, where a small knife and a gun where holstered, and above she wore a long sleeved dark top. The top's sleeves widened down to her wrists, and the neckline was far lower than normal. It was also cropped, revealing a sliver of her middle above her waistband, affording a glimpse of the line of her tattoos that ran around her left side to disappear into her waistband above her left hip.

The overall affect was of an outfit that seemed part Athosian and part Elite warrior.

It was an outfit she could spar in, could fight in, which he suspected would apply to every piece of clothing she owned. However, today, he didn't think she had been sparring, as there was no faint glimmer of moisture on her skin or flush to her cheeks that would imply she had been working out. Instead, she appeared calm and still, as if she had been simply sitting quietly by herself. Perhaps on that bench they had sat on before, looking out at the open sparring area; she had said it was a favourite spot of hers.

He was pleased to see her, as he always was, but seeing her looking just that little bit different – more Teyla the woman rather than just Honoured Elite Emmagan – it niggled at some surprising feelings as he and Abas walked down the corridor towards her.

Something had begun to change inside him since he had helped her fight Iketani, and since he had witnessed the Elite supporting Massa through his grief.

The Elite were strong powerful warriors, perhaps even more so than the Alliance public were aware. However, the idea of them being emotionless, battle hardened obsessive Wraith hunters had been well and truly shattered for John.

He had seen them in battle, as powerful as they were, but he had also seen them grieving, and showing loyalty to one another that John suspected most people outside of a military couldn't ever really understand. For the Elite it was also a relationship that was formed by striding into the most dangerous situations anyone could, testing them to the very limits of courage and stamina.

They were passionately dedicated warriors, but in truth, they were just men and women, like everyone else except in a few precise and skilful areas. They were the fastest, the strongest - or the grumpiest in the case of Oneakka - but they were still just people.

He had enjoyed discovering that obvious fact for a while, but now that truth was not as comfortable.

Now he cared about them, and he knew full well that they strode into every day, into the most violent of situations without any regard for themselves.

And they died there.

Too many and too often.

Looking at Teyla now, standing with a polite smile on her face for Abas' benefit, he couldn't just see her as the fascinating, beautiful, but impenetrable Elite warrior as he had before. Now he saw a warrior yes, but a woman too, who loved her family, loved her pet dragon, but who had dedicated her life to hunting Wraith Queens.

She was someone he really cared for now, and she was just as vulnerable as anyone else. She was just somewhat harder to kill, but just as mortal as he was.

She had said early on, when they had first met, that Elite lived the most dangerous, and often shortest, of lives and that fact worried him deeply. Especially today, because once she left here, he would have no idea where she was, if she was safe, and if someone was watching her back properly. He might never hear of her again, and if she was lost out there, he might never find out what had really happened to her.

With just a simple difference in her clothing today, slightly more Teyla and less Elite Emmagan, that fact was completely unavoidable now.

He wasn't sure he could do this. Could care this much about someone he was going to have to walk away from. Who was going to walk away from him, because they didn't belong together. They never would.

Yet, as he moved closer to her, he met her eyes, and some of that worried sadness began to slide away again. In its place were the warmer, more excitable feelings he preferred. They were perhaps just as vulnerable though, but walking towards her now, the faint sunlight lighting her from her left, he chose to focus on the fact that they might have a couple of hours together still.

"Greetings, Major Sheppard," she said, her smile deepening a fraction as they reached her.

"Honoured Elite," he replied, steadfastly holding his gaze up and away from the lower than usual dip of her neckline.

She smiled politely back again before her attention shifted to Abas. "Thank you, Abas, you may leave Major Sheppard in my care."

"Yes, Mistress," Abas replied, and his responding nod turned into a bow as he backed away.

John watched Abas back up further, the guy's eyes on the floor, before turning and striding away down the corridor. Amused at the overt display, John turned back to Teyla and smiled at her properly.

"You ever get bored of that?" He asked angling his head back towards where Abas' steps grew fainter, but John still kept his voice low.

"It is a sign of his respect," Teyla replied as she turned slightly to move away. "But, yes," she admitted with a part smile. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure," John replied as he moved forward, but she was already ahead of him, reaching the small table set by the racks of the bantos rods. The large jug of water stood as it had before, empty cups stood ready on a tray.

"How is Lieutenant Ford?" She asked as she poured water into a cup for him.

"Dr Beckett set his arm and confirmed three broken ribs, as well as the concussion," John replied. Teyla extended the cup to him and he took it with his free hand. "Thanks. Ford's already complaining, so he's fine."

"His wounds could have been far worse," Teyla replied as if to make an excuse for Ford's complaining.

"And he's reminding everyone of that, telling everyone how he went up against an Elite warrior all by himself," John replied pulling a face.

She smiled at that and turned away. "Shall we sit?" She suggested indicated the far bench he had imagined her sat. He had predicted right, because her own cup was stood on the pavings there and one of her swords leant against the side of the bench.

"Sure," he replied and they made their way across the covered yard.

There was the faintest edge of tension in the air between them, or maybe it was just John. Knowing that this might be the last time they saw each other was putting a definite crimp on things for him, but then, maybe she was aware of the same? He considered her profile as they walked towards the bench. She would be brilliant at poker with that beautiful poker face.

They reached the bench and John sat down on the cool bench with a sense of relief. The walk from the Gate and through the streets of Tjaru had been a hot one, the Athosian sun having been strong and bright overhead. Here, sat in the shade, looking out at the sunlight pouring in through the open roof over the sparring sand, John felt himself relax. He settled more comfortably on the bench, set his boots on the paved ground, and took a breath of flower-scented air. It really was a great spot to sit.

He looked at Teyla sat beside, a good foot between them. "How's Massa?" He asked.

She had picked up her cup and she looked up from the liquid. "He is well enough. His surgery went well, and he should regain most of the use of his arm."

John suspected he understood what that kind of phrase meant. He had heard such phrases used in military hospitals before, fortunately not directed at him, but some buddies had heard that sugar coated news before.

John held her gaze and nodded, communicating that he understood what she wasn't saying. He wondered what happened to Elite who could no longer fight. Did Elite retire or did they just continue to throw in on fighting the Wraith regardless to the severity of their injuries.

He didn't really want to ask her.

"He has decided that he will remain in the Training facility, to teach new recruits," Teyla supplied, answering his unspoken question. "He has also decided that he will adopt young Aki," she added as her attention returned to her cup.

"Iketani' kid?" John asked as she took a sip.

"Yes," she replied as she licked her lips dry and set the cup back down by her boot. "Massa hopes to heal the damage done to both their families."

John considered that as he took a good swallow of his own cool water. "That's going to be quite a weight for Aki to carry, to always be known as Iketani' kid."

"I agree," she replied, "but it is not something that can be altered."

John looked at her. "Couldn't you send him away to live in secret somewhere in the Alliance? Change his name?" He knew the Elite would have thought of that, though if Massa went with the kid he was hardly inconspicuous.

"It was considered, however, there are some that are concerned that without observation Aki might turn out as his mother did. Especially if the truth of his heritage was kept from him and he was later to discover it. Massa will ensure that Aki will be treated as the innocent he is."

"And bring him up right," John added knowingly.

Teyla nodded.

"You lose any more recruits?"

"Seven in total were killed, and many are still under medical care, but they will recover well," Teyla replied, her tone level, but he could see the darkening emotions in her expression. "The truth of the attacks was presented in full to the High Council and the Military Council yesterday," she continued. "It seems likely that Atlantis will not be held accountable for Iketani' actions."

John nodded. "Torren seemed confident in that as well, at least when he met with Colonel Carter."

Teyla smiled slightly at that. "He was greatly impressed by Colonel Carter. If she were to stand in testimony for your people, she would impress many of the Council."

"I wouldn't though?" He joked, desperate to break through some of the tension and the negative weight of all that had happened.

Teyla actually chuckled at that and he gratefully felt the tension ease slightly between them. "I am sure that you too would impress them."

Feeling overly pleased with her assessment, he smiled at her.

Her smile slipped though, to a direct seriousness. "You fought very well against Iketani, John."

"Yeah, playing bait was helpful," he muttered as he looked down at his cup again. The memories of Iketani' knife held to his throat, as she used him as bait to draw Teyla into the fight, were bitter tasting.

"We have all been captured," Teyla replied matter-of-factly and John looked at her with exaggerated surprise. Who had managed to capture her and what had she done to them afterwards? "It is how we act to deal with the situation and gain escape that matters."

John appreciated her point, but he would always regret that he hadn't been able to take Iketani down far sooner.

"Well, nevertheless, thanks for the rescue," he replied, realising that he hadn't had the chance to thank her properly before now.

She nodded slightly in response, her wide dark eyes lowering slightly.

The shade around them both, set back from the sunlight of the sparring area, gave the bench a somewhat intimate and private feel, but not an overly romantic one. There were too many lingering worries, to many shared battle memories, and the tension still faintly there. One of his own reasons for feeling tense had to do with that battle against Iketani, and he decided that he would take a leaf out of her book and address it head on.

"I hope that you're okay with my, umm, _interruption_ at the end of your fight with Iketani," he said, wishing he was more suave and confident with this kind of thing.

"You acted from noble intentions," Teyla replied instantly though. "I would never hold such a thing against you."

He held her eyes for a moment, seeing nothing in her expression other than her honest directness.

"You don't suppose I could get that in writing?" He joked.

She lifted one eyebrow. "Are you expecting to require that reasoning again in the future?" She asked, some teasing in her own voice.

"It might work against Sumner," he considered, only to wince inwardly at speaking disrespectfully about his commanding officer to her. John had promised himself that he wouldn't play Sumner's own game of petty remarks and pointed comments.

"He does seem a somewhat inflexible individual," Teyla said, again surprising him. "Not that I have interacted with him all that much."

"He's a good officer," John said, because Sumner had kept the city together, defended it from Wraith invasion and John had to respect that, even if Sumner didn't respect him in turn. "He likely thinks I'm _too_ flexible at times," John considered out loud.

"There is no such thing," Teyla replied. "A tree that is flexible can withstand the harshest of gales, but the inflexible will always inevitably break."

John glanced at her, agreeing with her point and liking the fact that she seemed to be very willing to defend him against the absent Sumner.

"Though," she added, her eyes narrowing, "you do seem to have considerable skill at getting yourself into trouble. So, perhaps I should 'put it into writing', as you say."

He grinned at her teasing, though the point was against him so he controlled the grin and pretended to look hurt. "This is from _you_, an Elite warrior who hunts down Wraith Queens," he responded, watching her carefully to see if he had pushed the teasing line too far.

"Which only validates my judgement," she replied. "I cannot always be around to rescue you." He was almost certain there had been a sparkle of flirtation in that.

"Then I'll try to only get into trouble when you're around," he responded, leaning just a fraction closer to her as he smiled, in what he hoped was a teasing charming way.

She smiled at that as she shook her head as if in desperation. She hadn't shifted in her seat or leant away at his slight lean though.

"Perhaps you could simply stop getting yourself into trouble at all," she suggested.

He glanced away from her as he pretended to think about her suggestion, making a humming assessing sound as he did. She chuckled faintly beside him, drawing all his attention back to her, his heart rate increasing.

"Na," he concluded, "you might lose interest in me if I did."

It was a first step, a leap of faith into that territory between them, and a test to see how she would respond.

She grinned, her smile wide, showing her teeth and those lovely cheek dimples again for a second as she shook her head at him. He felt a rush of success, especially when she looked away only to glance back at him, her eyes bright.

"You believe trouble interests me?" She asked as she controlled her smile, challenging him on his suggestion, but there was no less flirtation in her eyes.

Excitement coursed through him now, focusing every part of his attention on her.

"It's certainly nothing new to an Elite warrior," he replied, trying out another smile on her, one he had been told could be very charming.

He had tried it on her before, when he had first properly met her, but at that time he had been chained up inside a slave cage. He had smiled up at her, working the charm to help himself out of the situation, but she had only rolled her eyes at him, shaken her head, and looked away. She had still smiled faintly though he remembered.

Now, sat beside her, she again looked away, but her smile was still in full force.

"As are attempts to woo me," she replied looking back at him from the corner of her eyes, her eyebrows high.

Who else exactly was trying to 'woo' her?

"Who said anything about wooing?" He said in response, looking away, and forcing indifference, hoping that would tease in return or perhaps give him an avenue of escape if she wasn't actually interested.

"Are those flowers for me?" She asked, her voice challenging and somewhat flirtatious.

John looked down at the carry case of blossoming plants and back to her. "No," he replied instantly, his chin high as he shrugged.

As if he would give an Elite warrior pretty flowers. She'd probably want a knife or a battleaxe.

"They're for Ketra," he explained, somewhat defensively because he didn't want to come across as a sap, and they really weren't for Teyla.

Not directly anyway.

He was almost certain Torren hadn't believed that either.

Teyla angled her head to see round him to the plants with interest.

"Well, one is for Ketra, the other is for Mino from her and you. I thought, maybe, a blossoming plant from Earth might, you know, help repair some of the damage with Mino." He realised he had been stupidly nervous about this, though he was almost certain she would appreciate the plants, but he wasn't entirely sure.

"That is a wonderful suggestion, thank you, John," Teyla replied immediately, all flirtation and teasing gone replaced by surprise.

John reached down and pulled the carry case round so that she could see the plants better.

"They're still young," he explained, "I don't really know what kind they are. The head of the botany department prepared them for me, she's put all the technical info on them on this pad," he said as he pulled out the pad briefly so she could see where it was tucked into the case. "You think it'll help with Mino?"

"Very much so," Teyla replied. She seemed really pleased. His gift had worked.

She had reached down into the open case and was touching the soft young petals of the closest plant.

"They told me this one would grow into a good size tree," he added pointing to the other taller plant she wasn't examining, "so it may be best to give that one to Mino."

"And other is truly for Ketra to enjoy?" Teyla asked, looking up at him from under her brow.

"You can give them both to Mino too if you want. I just thought the poor dragon might never get to eat any more blossoms again after what she did." He hadn't had the heart to tell the botanists that one of the plants was intended as lizard snack food. He worried that it was a little stupid now. "And, she did save my life from that Wraith before," he added hurriedly.

"That is very generous of you, John," Teyla replied. "I am sure she will enjoy it very much. Would you like to give it to her now?" She offered as she withdrew her hand from the carry case.

John smiled at that, surprised at the offer and pleased that he got to see the oversized lizard pet once more at least. "Sure," he replied with a grin.

Teyla smiled in return and rose from the bench, slinging her sword around herself, while John set his cup down on the bench and picked up the plants' carry case again.

"She been good?" John asked. "No more plant attacks?"

Teyla smiled at him as they fell into step with each other across the pavings of the covered side of the yard.

"Very much so, in fact she has been quite anxious to be close to me or Father since the day of the carnival. She seems to understand that something significant occurred. Father kept her with him while we hunted Iketani. He seemed unwilling to leave her alone in my quarters," she said with a soft smile.

John pulled his eyes from her as they reached the far door out of the courtyard. He reached ahead for the handle and pulled the door open for her.

"She didn't eat any of his things did she?" He joked as Teyla passed close by him to leave the courtyard.

"No," Teyla replied, "she was well behaved."

The corridor into which the door led was also becoming more familiar to him, but he was still confused by the layout of the place. There were no windows, so no way to relate yourself as to where you were in the building. He glanced around and saw one of the small vases she had told him could be used as a cipher to get around the maze of corridors and doorways. However, he hadn't yet worked out the cipher, so it was no help to him right now.

There were less people around here than back in the long corridor off the entrance hall, but still it was busier than John had seen it before. Walking alongside Teyla, he could already feel the change to the both of them now they were in public view again.

"Abas told me the wedding ceremony has been moved into the complex, for security reasons," John said, wanting to keep their conversation going, and feeling the need to create a certain appearance of business for others seeing him walking with Teyla.

"Yes, as you would imagine, many of the political delegates are concerned at the chance of further attacks," she replied, her chin that little bit higher and firmer now there were others around. "Though my, Halling, and Si' presence during the ceremony may help to decrease some fears."

He had a lot more questions about how things were going for the Elite. Was there going to be any backlash on them from Iketani' betrayal? Were they going to do anything about Dreamstation and its smugglers now they had been there? What had happened to Iketani' abandoned slave?

However, he didn't ask, because he suspected that she wouldn't be able to tell him, and he didn't want to create any kind of distance between them. If he asked her those questions she would have to tailor what she told him, withhold things, and it would only remind her of their differences. He preferred to keep things light, teasing and friendly between them today. After all, they had agreed to keep politics out of their friendship, and they might not see each other again.

He frowned at a passing vase, pulling his thoughts away from the more negative sway about the future.

"The ceremony is to be held in the gathering courtyard," Teyla was saying. "There should be enough space for the remaining political guests to watch the wedding."

"Remaining?" John asked, looking back round with interest.

A line of women carrying swaths of fabric filed past them, each of the women dipping their head to Teyla. John smiled faintly to them, keeping the plants close to his leg to protect them. Once the women passed and he and Teyla turned another corner, she finally replied.

"Yes, some of the guests were unable to attend a new scheduled day for the wedding," she replied, her tone making it clear she did not believe such excuses.

"Guess it makes it clear to Torren who your peoples' friends really are," John commented, stepping slightly into political territory.

"Indeed, but also those most invested in the political connections the marriage will create."

John nodded at that, wondering if that category now included Atlantis.

They turned another corner and a short corridor ahead led to a set of closed doors, which he recognised immediately. This was the family area of the complex.

The two guards stood on either side of the doors, stood up straighter, chins high and arms tight to their sides upon seeing Teyla.

"It is likely that you and Mr Woolsey will gain significant opportunities today," Teyla said. "It will be some time until your people may be in close proximity to so many officials likely to be interested in trade."

John nodded. "I'll mention that to Woolsey," he replied, more of the guards' benefit than hers.

When they were a few metres away, the two guards reached out and pulled open the doors with a flourish, revealing the warmer tones of the family area beyond. Teyla inclined her head slightly to the guards as she led John back into the area of the Governing Buildings that he was almost certain very few political visitors ever got to see. He was seeing it twice in a week.

He liked the vibe in here, decorated with far more colour and dark wooden furniture, and there was a strong scent of what was likely incense in the air. There was also the faintest scent of food in the air.

It was also strangely quiet for a home on a wedding day.

Teyla smiled when he noted that to her. "I assure you the other side of the main rooms it is far less serene. There have already been two minor crises this morning, one being broken seams on Zabetha's dress and the other a missing shawl."

John looked at Teyla closely, noticing the depth to her smile, which he hadn't seen her use before when talking about her sister. He stored that away.

"How's Rhakshar doing?" He asked instead.

Teyla glanced at him as she led him around a right hand corner and into the same stairwell that they had used the last time she had brought him here, which likely meant that Ketra was in her quarters as he had suspected. He tried not to read too much into that, after all he had been in her quarters here before, and even slept on the floor of her quarters on the Sythus. It didn't mean anything more than it was her personal space here.

"He is doing very well," Teyla replied as she headed up the narrow stairs ahead of him. His eyes travelled down the back of her without thinking, her attention being directed forward. "He should be able to stand for the ceremony, and he has received excellent care, from the healers and the entire family."

John glanced up at her shoulder, to where he could just see her profile as she reached the half landing and turned to head up the next flight of stairs. She sounded different when talking about Rhakshar.

"You get a chance to talk with him?" He ventured.

"Yes," she replied as she strode up the stairs, her trousers hugging the length of her toned thighs and hips. "I have spoken frankly with him about my former concerns."

She paused at the top of the stairs and John quickly lifted his eyes from her backside as she turned to wait for him to reach her side. He suspected from the faint lifting of one of her eyebrows that he had been caught checking her out, but she didn't say anything.

"_Former_ concerns?" John commented as he stepped up the last two steps in one go to reach her side.

Teyla angled her head as they moved down the thickly carpeted corridor side-by-side. "I am now certain that he is an honest man and worthy of marriage to my sister. He will be an excellent husband for her."

John was surprised at this dramatic turn around, though Rhakshar had stepped between Zabetha and a bullet. That meant a lot, but Teyla had been so convinced that there had been something 'off' about the guy.

"So was it that you were being overly protective after all?" He asked, wondering if she would share anymore, but also enjoying the chance to push in some teasing again.

"Somewhat," she replied with a look, acknowledging the teasing. "However, I was correct that he had some issues relating to me, which we have discussed."

John nodded, looking down at the lush carpet soft under his boots. He wondered what had been said in that conversation.

"In many ways we have both been overly protective, and Rhakshar has aided me in realising my own role in my family," she said softly.

John looked round at her, watching her beautiful face closely. Part of him felt stupidly jealous for a second, that Rhakshar had impacted her so much, but he squashed it aside.

"He has reminded me of my obligations to Zabetha and our family," Teyla continued, almost thoughtfully. "And I am grateful for him for that."

Now John really wanted to know what exactly Rhakshar had said that had changed things so much, but it wasn't his place to push, and Teyla didn't seem to be about to volunteer any more. He was grateful she was sharing this much with him as it was.

"Sounds good," he said simply.

"Yes, it is," Teyla replied.

She gestured to the right and John recognised the closed door that led into her quarters. She moved ahead, turned the handle, and pushed open the door to reveal Ketra sat watching the door as if she had been waiting for them to enter.

John guessed she must have heard them coming down the corridor.

0000  
>TBC (I know, I am evil)<p> 


	36. Rules

**Note:** I am sorry to report that due to a nasty racist review I have now set my stories so that anonymous reviews are no longer allowed. I'm sorry to do this to those who have not signed up with FF net, but I would prefer to keep this a relaxed and peaceful hobby. It is easy to sign on at FF net if you want to be able to leave a review. Many thanks for your understanding.

**Chapter 36 - Rules**

0000

"Hello, Ketra," Teyla greeted her pet, her hand sliding over the dragon's head.

Ketra leant into the touch, but her eyes were on John and with a bubble of greeting the dragon moved towards him. The long length of her spine-covered neck angled up towards him, presenting the top of her head in clear expectation of being petted.

"Hey, Ketra," John said with a smile as he did as he was expected to and ran his hand over the top of her warm silver coloured head.

Clearly pleased with the attention, Ketra lifted her head higher against his hand, her neck spines shifting against each other as John scratched around one pointed dragon ear.

"Ketra," Teyla said warmly down to the dragon as she set her sword aside on a side unit, "John has brought you a gift."

Ketra looked around towards Teyla with the adoration of any beloved pet, and John took the opportunity to move out of the doorway to Teyla's quarters. Stepping around the dragon, he set the plant carry case down on the low coffee table to the right, which stood between two large sofas. Behind him, the door to Teyla's quarters swung shut, clicking loudly closed. Whilst Ketra received further ear scratching from Teyla, John pulled out the smaller of the two plant pots. He checked the label on it and quickly removed its entry on the electronic pad, after all they wouldn't want Mino knowing there might have been a second blossoming plant on its way to her.

He slid the pad back into the case and he turned back round to Ketra. The dragon looked up at him with interest as he crouched down to her level and placed the pot down on the floor between them.

"Here you go, Ketra. Try not to eat it all at once," he advised.

Ketra looked down at the pot and then back at him.

Crouched so much closer to her, John could see that there were new faint lines of colour along her snout and down her neck spines, patterns of green, yellow and orange. He was almost certain they hadn't been there the last time he had seen her, which had only been a few days ago. Her large orange eyes lowered back to the plant pot with clear interest, but there were no signs of an impending blossom attack.

"You can eat this one," John told her.

Ketra looked back up at him, then over her shoulder to where Teyla stood watching the gift giving. Gift giving that didn't seem to be going all that well.

"I think your training has working too well," John suggested to Teyla, trying not to feel too disappointed.

Teyla smiled though. "It is likely she will eat it once we have left," she replied as if she didn't want him to feel bad. Which wasn't usual Elite behaviour, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

"You may eat this plant," Teyla told Ketra, her voice pointedly bright to encourage her pet.

Ketra looked back at John though, then over his shoulder where the other plant still stood in the carry case behind him.

"But not that one," John told her, "This one's all yours though." He pushed the plant pot further towards her hopefully, wondering if maybe he should give her the other plant if she would prefer it.

"I think I should hide that other plant somewhere well out of her reach until I can pass it to Mino," Teyla considered as she reached out over Ketra towards him, silently asking him to pass over the other plant.

John stood up, picked up the entire plant carry case and handed it over to her. Ketra watched the hand over with some interest, but her gaze returned quickly to the plant sat on the floor in front of her.

"You are free to eat these blossoms," Teyla repeated to Ketra as she stroked her free hand the dragon's back. "I will find a safe place for this in the other room," Teyla added to John as she turned away.

At the far end of the living space, the room was dominated by a large window that, as he remembered from his last visit here, looked out over the large family courtyard below. The same courtyard that had been the scene of Torren and Zabetha's near assassination, and where Rhakshar had been shot. John wondered if that had altered Teyla's enjoyment of the view.

Passing that window now, the sunlight shining gently over her, Teyla headed towards the exit just left of the window, which, as John had noticed last time, led to two other rooms. The doors had been shut the last time he was here, but he had to guess one was likely to be her bedroom. Wherever it led, she disappeared from view, leaving John alone with Ketra.

He looked back down at the alien dinosaur to see that Ketra had also been watching Teyla leave. The orange eyes moved up to him and then back down to her potted plant.

Thinking some further encouragement might help, he crouched back down in front of her, plucked a large petal from the plant and offered it to Ketra.

"It's good; straight from Earth," he tempted as if she could actually understand him. "Well, not _straight_ from Earth," he amended. "It's been grown in Atlantis from seeds or something like that. I'm not really into plants," he shared with the lizard now contemplating the offered blossom petal.

The orange eyes moved to him as she touched the end of her snout to the petal and snuffled at it.

"You can eat it, go on," John offered.

The tip of a long pink tongue appeared from between the two lines of small pointed front teeth and wrapped around the petal. John let go of it quickly and watched as the petal disappeared behind the large lips and Ketra began to munch on the petal slowly.

"See, there you go," John said with a smile. "She's eaten one petal," he added louder to Teyla in the next room.

"Be prepared for her to devour the rest," Teyla called back. He could hear small doors opening and closing, like Teyla was going through some cupboards, probably to find the safest place to hide the other plant.

John smiled as he looked back to Ketra, to find the dragon watching him closely as she continued to chew on the petal, slowly and thoughtfully like a cow.

He met the slit, somewhat Wraith like, eyes of the dragon and suddenly Ketra's attention seemed different somehow. He felt like she was studying him more intently than ever before. The strange slit pupils moved slightly as she looked at him. It wasn't a threatening intense study, but it felt somehow far too piercing for a simple lizard.

Then she blinked and looked back down at the plant, but there was no sign of a impending vicious blossom attack.

"Earth blossoms not so good, huh?" John asked, aware that it was probably silly to try to fill an awkward silence with a large lizard. Not that it was entirely silent, because there were a few more light bangs of cupboard doors being closed next door.

Ketra looked at him again, her gaze meeting his directly again as if she was a person and they were having a proper conversation. Then she extended her neck forward, presenting the top of her head to him again in another request for him to pet her. Pleased at least that she liked his ear scratching technique, he willingly stroked her strange soft reptile skin.

"Not sure she's all that impressed with Earth blossoms," John called to Teyla as he scratched around Ketra's other ear.

"She may simply be concerned she will get into trouble again," Teyla called back and from the sound of her voice he got the impression that she was lifting something, possibly the plant case up into a high cupboard.

"Take your time with it," John told Ketra as he ruffled the top of her head and stood upright. "You don't have to eat it all at once."

He turned on the spot and took in the sight of Teyla's quarters around him, rather pleased that she had felt comfortable leaving him alone in her living room.

He had been here before, but it felt different now, though he wasn't exactly sure why. He felt more comfortable stood in her space, hands on his hips looking around with open curiosity at her home. Or rather, one of her homes.

He wondered which set of quarters she preferred.

The front door to her quarters was set into the wall to his left, on one side of which were the sofas and the coffee table, set for a full view of a large screen set into the wall. On the other side of the front door, there was a large side unit made out of solid wood, carved by hand by the looks of it. In the wall opposite him, there was a large stone hearth, with a thick rug set before it. On both sides of the hearth, there were bookshelves set against the wall. He hadn't noticed them last time, and he found his eyes drawn instantly to what was displayed along the busy packed shelves. As well as Earth like paperback books and scrolls, there were rounded pieces of stone, small statues and a purple shell. Curious, John crossed the room, stepping carefully around the pale rug so his boots wouldn't leave any mud on it. There were some soft toys piled at one end of the rug, one of them familiar to him from Ketra's old tiny sleeping box back on the Sythus. John smiled at the tiny fluffy toy that surely the large scary looking lizard couldn't still want.

At the shelves, he angled his head to look at the books' spines, only to remember that they were in a language he couldn't read. He forgot that about being in Pegasus; that though he could understand whatever people said, regardless as to which planet they came from, thanks to some weird trick of Gate travel, it didn't mean he could read their written languages. He wondered if the symbols on the books were Athosian or some standardised Alliance language, though by comparison he decided a few of the books were in a different second language.

In the next room, he could hear Teyla mutter something to herself and a cupboard shut firmly, only for another to open. Amused at that, he continued his study of her things, turning his attention from the indecipherable books to the knickknacks dotted along the shelves. He was surprised at them, as he wouldn't have thought an Elite warrior would have sentimental things like these. Or maybe they were just traditional Athosian paperweights.

He picked up a hand-sized chunk of green stone, its edges glittering in the sunlight entering from his right. The rock was heavier than it looked. He imagined that the geologists in Atlantis would love to look through this small collection, but they were all just rocks to him. But she had chosen them for a reason, had kept them and displayed them. Maybe they each meant something to her, collected from places she had been or were linked with special memories from her life. Or maybe she had just thought they looked pretty.

A small crack of plastic behind him made him look round to see that Ketra had picked up the plant pot and was carrying it over to the rug. She had one edge of the pot's rim held delicately in her smaller front teeth. He watched her with amusement as she set the pot down carefully next to the rug and then settled down on the rug herself close to it.

Pleased that it was a sign that she was in fact pleased with the gift, John turned his attention back to the shelves and two tiny statues that might have been made out of clay. The end corners of the shelves were utilised as hanging points for what looked like necklaces or perhaps they were just decoration. He fingered a long length of coloured thread that held different coloured pieces of glass. It was all so much more girly than he would have expected.

He liked it though.

Turning from the shelves, he surveyed the rest of the room. Behind the sofas and the side unit that currently supported one of her swords, stood a table that looked like a workspace. A tablet computer sat on one corner of the desk and a stack of Alliance electronic pads beside it. The desk chair sat on a nice earth toned patterned rug, and he wondered if it was there to keep her feet warm when she worked at her desk.

He moved around the rug and Ketra, pausing to scratch around one dragon ear, before moving on through the room, towards her desk and the window. A painting hanging next to the shelves caught his eye and he paused to study it, while Ketra snuffled at the plant. The painting was in a sort of smudgy style, depicting tents set in dense woodland, a cooking fire in the centre sending a column of smoke up into a sunset sky above the tree line. He decided it was likely a traditional Athosian settlement that Teyla had described to him before. At which point, he realised he couldn't hear Teyla moving around in the other room anymore.

"You've got a nice place here," he called to her as he turned away from the painting. He had told her that before, but he felt he meant it more this time, having had the chance to nose around a bit.

"It serves me well when I am here," Teyla replied from the other room.

Curious to see even more of her place, he moved idly towards the open archway by the window through which Teyla had disappeared. Just like last time, he could see two doors set off the small lobby space beyond the archway, but this time the furthest door stood half-open. Through that space, he could see built-in wardrobes and cupboards lining the far wall. Giving in further to his curiosity, and rather too eager for the chance to see her bedroom, he moved out of the living room into the small lobby so he could see a little further into the new room.

"Looks like Ketra's decided she likes the plant," he called to Teyla, peering further into the room, whilst still actually keeping back from the open door.

"Has she eaten the blossoms already?" Teyla asked as she came into view across the room. She crouched down in front of an open cupboard in the built-in storage space. She had an armful of folded clothing and she was piling some of them inside the cupboard.

She was either putting her laundry away or he suspected she had had to make space in another cupboard to hide Mino's plant.

He moved closer to the door, taking her conversation as something close to an invitation. "No, but she's put the plant by the rug," he told her as he reached the half-open door.

He could see the end of a large bed and a dark wooden chest at its foot, on which there were piled more folded clothing, which she probably had removed from another cupboard.

"That is a good sign indeed," Teyla replied, her voice somewhat muffled by leaning into the deep cupboard.

As she leant forward, the back of her top rose slightly showing more of her elegant back and consequently more of her line of tattoos that he could now see ran diagonally up from the left side of her waist. He had to wonder if the line would wrap around her right ribs eventually to meet up with the line of tattoos running down her neck. A long line of markings wrapped around her. He wondered how many there were – each one a Wraith Queen killed by her own hand.

Except right now, she wasn't the Elite warrior; this was an acutely domestic situation. Teyla sorting her clothing and talking to him about her pet.

The fact hit him strongly, pushing up his confidence and pleasure suddenly.

He was getting to see more of Teyla, the woman, and not the warrior.

Emboldened somewhat by this, and her easy acceptance of him standing at the edge of her bedroom, he reached out and pushed the door open a little more so that he could stand fully at the threshold of her bedroom. He craned his neck into the room to see more.

Her bed was easily a king-size and it had a surprising display of prettily patterned cushions at its head, and a large warm looking patchwork throw over the covers. She didn't have bedside tables, but a shelf at pillow height set against the wall at each side. He noticed immediately that the right shelf had more space on it as well as a digital looking clock, a cup, and a small knife. She probably referred to sleep on that side of the bed.

He moved a little further forward so he could see into the far left corner of the room. There was a tall chest of drawers and two side units, one of which supported a stand that held her other sword. Her familiar long dark coat hung from a large hook next to the side unit, the harness she wore for the swords hanging beside it. Beside that stood a free standing tall mirror and hanging from a stand next to it was something that truly caught his attention. A long pale dress with gold detailing.

He stepped properly into her bedroom at that and moved towards the dress.

"Is this what you're wearing to the wedding?" He asked her, making sure she could hear his surprise. He pointed to the dress and watched her turn and look at him over her shoulder.

"Yes, it is," she replied and he heard the faint defensiveness in her voice as she returned her attention to the cupboard.

"It's a dress," he pointed out to tease.

"Well noticed," she replied from inside the cupboard and he grinned, enjoying this way too much.

He studied the beautiful dress more closely, mentally picturing her in it. It looked like it was slightly corseted in the middle, with the rest of the dress hanging in smooth clean lines.

"And it's not black or brown," he added again, sounding shocked, as he looked at her again. Both of them knew dark colours were standard in a military life, well unless you were fighting in a desert, but he already knew that Elite dressed to expect battle at any moment.

She stood up from the cupboard and turned to face him, her hands on to her hips.

"I am capable of wearing other colours of clothing," she replied, her voice defensive still, but he could tell she was amused.

He gave her a doubtful look as he purposefully looked her up and down to make his silent point, but also because it was a nice excuse to just look at her new Athosian/Elite outfit.

She crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her chin and she narrowed her eyes at him. "I have yet to see you dressed in any colour other than black or blue."

The comment was true enough, but he didn't miss her extra meaning, that he was often supporting bruises and getting himself into trouble.

He smiled at her. "True, but half the time you're to blame for that."

"As far as I have seen, you have been quite capable of finding trouble without my presence," she told him.

The flirtation was again causing the warming tingle of arousal through his veins. He turned away from her dress to face her more directly.

"Maybe, but I've definitely been in trouble _a lot_ more since meeting you," he replied, belatedly realising his own double meaning. He was definitely in trouble where she was concerned, because the urge to kiss her was getting stronger with every passing moment.

It might not be the smartest move, but the opportunity was here, and he was enjoying the challenging flirtation between them, though she stood with her arms crossed and one eyebrow lifted doubtfully.

"I believe you have misread the situation," she told him quite seriously, and his heart dropped, "for you will recall that on most occasions I have arrived in time to save you from a troublesome situation that you had already found by yourself."

He grinned at that, his heart lifting again, as he pretended to study her bedroom around them. There was a good metre and a half between them and her arms were crossed, but her words were saying something different, as was the sparkle of enjoyment in her eyes.

"You're right, what would I do without you around?" He replied, working a different angle and a charming smile.

She let out an elegant snort at that and turned away back to the cupboard behind her. The crossed arms came down as she closed the cupboard door and then turned back towards him to collect up some more of the folded clothes piled on the wooden chest.

"I believe that you are quite capable of looking after yourself and I cannot always be rushing to your rescue. I have other duties," she said as she moved away to the right to open another cupboard.

John smiled as he watched her turn her attention to the small storage space, looking for space for the items in her hand. She thought of rescuing him as a duty?

"I understand; you've got Wraith to kill, Queen's to hunt," John replied as he moved slightly further to the right as well, keeping level with her across the room. "Planets to save and all that," he commented. "Can't be saving my ass all the time."

She looked over her left shoulder at him, the movement twisting the line of her tattoos that ran from under her ear down to her collarbone. "Just ensure that you look where you are walking."

He grimaced at her reference to how he had fallen down into a slaver's pit, which had resulted in her having had to 'buy' him out of slavery to save him. However, he liked the way her amusement brightened her face, even if it was at his expense.

"You never know, you might miss having to get me out of trouble all the time," he suggested as he continued past her to the end of the room where the large window looked down over the family courtyard.

She gave him a doubtful smile over her right shoulder now before she returned to adding the remaining clothes to the open cupboard.

She hadn't answered him, he realised, which he decided meant that she would actually miss working with him.

He reached the window, drawn by the large wide dark wooden sill, which supported a statue at each end. The statue stood at the furthest end from him was clearly of an Elite warrior. It was carved out of a dark grey stone, the lines clean, strong and highly polished, reflecting the stoic posture and features of the Elite warrior. Only the tattoos along the warrior's bared arms were painted to stand out, the black paint clear and shiny in the sunlight making it through the net curtain closed over the window.

The male Elite statue looked like a cross between Si and Oneakka's build, a tall overly muscular man, but with an elegance and regal edge to him. His chin was high and in his fists he tightly held the handles of a long sword and a knife.

"It is Sythus," Teyla said, having seen the subject of his focus, and he wondered if he had missed her reply to his previous teasing comment. "It is a pair. The Hastos statue is in my quarters on the Sythus."

John nodded at that, struck by the elemental nature of an Elite warrior, as presented by the statue, which today felt in sharp contrast to the woman only a metre away from him now where she rearranged her clothing in a closet.

He turned his attention to the other statue at the end of the sill that was closest to him, and he picked it up with a smile. It was of one of Ketra's species, stood strong and proud, but its eyes seemed soft and intelligent. It had been expertly carved from a warm pale wood that reminded John of pine.

"And this one?" He asked, for the first time asking about one of the small details that filled her home.

Teyla stood up straight and closed the cupboard as she looked over at him. "Kanaan carved it for me, not long after he gifted Ketra to me."

John immediately didn't like the statue anymore. He set it back down on the windowsill. "Wooing was he?" He asked her.

She pursed her lips against her smile at his return to their earlier conversation. "At the time, yes," she replied.

John turned to face her more directly, leaning his right hip against the windowsill. "I didn't see him onboard the Sythus when we travelled to Milioc."

There was the faintest pause before she answered, during which she narrowed her eyes slightly at him, letting him know that she saw through his 'innocent' question.

"Kanaan has left the Sythus to work on Athos once more," she told him.

"Shame," John replied, not even trying to hide his pleasure at hearing that.

"And Larrin?" Teyla asked.

"Larrin?" John asked confused at the mention of the name.

"When I last saw her in the City of the Ancestors, she seemed intent on her own wooing, or perhaps she had already been successful," Teyla replied, surprising John to the point of shock. Was she jealous?

"No, no wooing, and even if she had tried, I don't trust her as far as I could throw her," he told her honestly.

Larrin could be provocatively flirtatious, but, at her heart, she was a self-serving scorpion ready to turn and sting at any moment that would serve her best interests. He would be frightened what she would do to him if he turned his back, let alone slept next to her.

"I am surprised, she seemed quite territorial," Teyla replied with a faint smile. "Besides, I am sure that there have been many women across the stars who would seek to woo a man from another galaxy."

John wasn't entirely sure how to take that, but her expression was teasingly playful. Was she just teasing him or was this her way of asking if he had anyone other than Larrin, as she had suspected. From the sparkle of her eyes and the tilt of her head, he suspected it was both. He hoped.

"No, no one's been trying to woo me," he replied, though admittedly there had been a disguised Ancient priestess and one brunette Hoffan scientist who had made him a surprising offer.

"I'm usually too busy fighting the Wraith," he added with a casual shrug, pleased he was comparing their lives that way.

"And falling down into mud pits," Teyla finished as she moved towards the windowsill, still moving parallel to him.

"Only the _one_ time," John responded to her teasing, glaring at her continuing enjoyment of reminding him of that embarrassing moment of his life.

She smiled at that as she reached the windowsill, her attention moving to something down in the courtyard below. Her hands touched down onto the wooden windowsill and the sunlight cast beautifully over her profile.

John let his eyes wander over her, drawn to the line of her tattoos sweeping down over the rise and fall of her left collarbone and down into the side of her cleavage. Wearing her new lower cut top today, he could see that the black markings continued far lower down the left side of that tempting shadow than he had seen before. Surely the line had to meet up with the tattoos running up and around her back. The enticing desire to find out buzzed through him.

He was hardly going to get as good an opportunity as this to make his move.

He turned against the windowsill to look out at the courtyard below with her, which meant he now stood almost beside her.

"Guess you're going to head out on the Sythus pretty soon," he asked, though fully aware that she couldn't tell him any details of her next mission. He watched her out the corner of his eye, having absolutely no interest in what looked like a few gardeners moving around in the yard outside.

"I will be returning to the Sythus tomorrow," she replied easily enough.

John nodded, turning away from the window again, resting his hip back against the sill again, but he was now so much closer to her.

"Some big dangerous mission no doubt," he asked her. Beyond her, the statue of Sythus seemed to be peering around her from the far end of the windowsill.

She looked up at him and smiled, but her cheeks didn't show their dimples. "I know how to take care of myself." The tone teased him again that he wasn't so careful at staying out of trouble.

He was immensely pleased with the teasing and that she hadn't backed away from him moving closer. "You're never going to let me forget falling into that mud pit are you?"

Her smile became a grin, her closest cheek dimpling temptingly. "I suspect I may find it useful to remind you of it again in the future."

He liked that; that she thought of them meeting up again.

He shifted against the sill slightly, moving nearer to her as he did. He was well in her personal space now and she hadn't moved away from him, but her right shoulder was still closest to him as she stood facing the window. He had her full attention though.

"Of course we may never get to see each other again, so you could just let it go," he suggested with a smile, leaning fractionally closer to her as he did.

She smiled along her shoulder, her eyes sparkling up at him with mirth. "All the more reason why I should recall the event."

He really liked the idea of her thinking about him.

"If you're going to miss me, maybe you could try to recall some more flattering memories of me," he told her, having added plenty of emphasis to the missing him part as he angled his head to see more of her face.

Her eyebrow had lifted at the suggestion of her missing him, but she hadn't argued against it. "Flattering memories?" She repeated as a doubtful question. "Such as?"

It was a full on teasing and tempting challenge, and it gave him the last push to take the leap of faith he had been desperate to take for far too long.

"Such as…" He suggested quietly as he leant in towards her, across the last distance, his height allowing him to easily lean around her shoulder between them.

She had already been looking up at him, her lips parted with a smile, and, as he lowered his mouth towards hers, he saw her lips part a fraction more, maybe from surprise, or perhaps with the same arousing rush of anticipation as he felt.

Her chin lifted as their mouths met, the kiss soft but a solid mutual meeting.

Her lips were warm and softly dry as she met his kiss with equal pressure. Her strong feminine scent, highlighted with touches of incense and something flowery, filled his senses, as did the warmth of her body radiated against him as he leant even closer to her.

Breaths held as long as possible, he pulled back just enough to part their lips, then a little further back so he could see her pull her lower lip into her mouth. A flash of her tongue and teeth tightened the taunt arousal humming through him, which had become all encompassing now, slowing his thoughts and causing him to lose all awareness of the rest of the universe around them.

"This is perhaps unwise," she said quietly, but he was certain that she had moved a fraction closer to him as she had said it.

"Perhaps," he repeated, not really agreeing with her, but understanding that they had just crossed a line. He didn't move back from her though, he kept close enough to keep them hovering just a few inches away from each other.

He didn't see any hint of real reluctance in her darkened eyes.

"Our people may one day become enemies," she said and he nodded his agreement again - it could happen.

His gaze dropped to her lips again, drawn in by the acutely recalled sensation of kissing her.

"Maybe," he replied. "But then, we may never see each other again after today."

She took a breath, the sound profoundly intimate stood so very close to her, and the feel of her breath against his cheek felt like a soft teasing caress.

"That may be true," she agreed softly.

John lifted his eyes from her mouth to meet her gaze again. "And we did agree to keep work out of our friendship."

She smiled at that, her eyes sliding down to his mouth. "Is that what this is?" She asked.

He had to smile in reply, though most of his attention was focused to her lips again. They were too inviting and he moved across the tiny distance again to brush his lips against hers.

"Sure," he replied before he kissed her again.

He was well aware that he was tempting her, using sensuality to fight both their concerns, but, right now, it was all he had against the political reality in which they both lived.

Right now, it was just the two of them.

The two of them pressing together, sliding hands over shoulders and down backs, tongues tangling, sliding and tempting.

Awareness of that political reality dropped away from John's consciousness. All that existed for him was her; her warmth, the womanly softness of her breasts against his chest, her lips wet and demanding against his, her hands caressing the back of his neck and up into his hair.

He threw himself into the kiss, tasting, touching, and sinking into a sensuality that engulfed him completely.

The passionate lock began to ease an indefinable time later, and John's thoughts finally slid out of sensuous bliss as their lips parted. Fast breathing and lingering hands held the spell for a few moments longer, through which John fought back the oncoming tide of rational over thinking.

He knew that they were due to attend a wedding, that afterwards he would return to Atlantis and tomorrow Teyla would disappear off into the unknown reaches around Alliance territory.

As much as he had said that they had checked their work lives at the door, it wasn't true. The reality of their lives meant that this could never be anything. It was a moment, a resolution to a wondering teasing desire, to reach out and kiss her, this stunning powerful Alliance warrior.

Yet, in now having tasted a little of that passion, of the curiosity fulfilled, he felt an uncomfortable pit ahead of him, because by the end of the day they would say goodbye. He would go back to his usual life working in Atlantis, fighting Wraith, but now with the ever-present aching hope that he would walk into her again.

He pressed his mouth to hers again, seeking another of the soft mutual kisses, drawing out the moment for as long as he could.

As before, she responded immediately and he quickly became absorbed in the feel of her against him, of her arms around his shoulders, the scent of womanly skin and Athosian spice, her tongue licking against his between their mouths, and the soft strong sound of her aroused breaths against his lips.

She pulled back from the kiss first this time, their lips popping apart, and John drew in a breath, easing some of his light-headedness. He opened his heavy lidded eyes enough to look at her hooded eyes.

Her hands slid warm paths down over his shoulders to stop on the front of his chest. The touch could mean she was about to pull away, to step away and reassert the truth that they couldn't really indulge this fantasy anymore, but he resisted the idea, just for a little longer. He flattened his hands against her sides a little more, memorising every minute detail so that he could always remember how it had felt to hold her.

She licked her lips slightly as she looked up at him from where her hands caressed gently across his chest.

"There would need to be rules," she said in a husky breathy voice, "as there are for any who become a lover of an Elite."

Lover?

The last wisps of John's previously enjoyed soft sensual haze transformed instantly into a sharp penetrative attention at that word.

"Sure," he managed to say out loud, his own voice huskier than normal.

Her hands stilled in the middle of his chest, her upper body held further back from his, pulling the soft arousing feel of her breasts away from him, but her eyes held his strongly.

"This would need to remain solely between us, no one else must know," she told him.

He nodded at that, agreeing with her wholeheartedly, but also because he was almost to the point of agreeing to anything she might say. He blinked to try and gain a little intellectual control though.

"And we check work at the door; no politics," he told her, his voice far steadier than he would have expected with his heart hammering in his chest.

She inclined her head in agreement as she took a breath, her ribs expanding against his hands on her sides. He looked down into the deep tempting shadow of her cleavage, so much closer, almost pressed against him. He trailed his eyes up the lines of her tattoos, arching up around her left breast to trail up to her collarbone and throat.

"We both need to be free of infection," she continued, another rule that he readily agreed with.

"Doc gave me a clean bill of health just yesterday," he told her with a smile as he slid his hands around to her upper back, encouraging her lean back against him.

Her back arched slightly in response, her belly pressing further against his, and her hands slid further up his chest to allow their chests to meet again. He angled and dipped his head as he gave in to another desire he had been harbouring for a long time. He slid his nose and lips into the warm tattooed area just under her left earlobe. She relaxed her head aside immediately and he felt her sigh as he brushed his lips against her skin, tasting with a kiss and then another.

Her hands slid back around his shoulders, one tight around the back of his neck needlessly encouraging him to keep nuzzling the warm womanly angle of her jaw and throat. He slid his hands around and up her sides, grazing his thumbs against the outer swells of her breasts as he pulled her tighter against him.

Her taste, her smell, and the press of her erect nipples tight against his chest, all compounded the rush of desperate desire and quickly poured the last of his blood supply south.

She wriggled slightly against him, pressing tighter to him, but her head tilted away, parting her skin from his mouth.

"There is one last rule," she said huskily, her hands tight at the back of his shirt.

John pulled his head back enough to meet her eyes again, as he fought against the tide of unthinking sensuality he was on the brink of losing himself into, and made himself focus on what she was saying.

"Okay," he managed to say.

"An Elite warrior," she said, her voice soft yet strong, this last rule apparently very important to her. He prayed it was something that he could agree to. "Never lies beneath another," she finished.

He paused a moment, letting his hormone engulfed mind process that, and then he smiled at her.

"I think I can work with that," he told her as he lowered his head and pressed his open mouth to hers.

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>TBC<p> 


	37. Pleasure

**Chapter 37 – Pleasure**

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The pleasure of his kiss was exquisite.

The entire experience of him filled her senses, obliterating everything else and creating a rush of passionate pleasure the like of which she had not experienced for a very long time.

There were perhaps many valid reasons why she had felt so drawn to this man and why his kisses now blanketed her thoughts so easily. He was a magnificently handsome man, with a charming smile and a quick playful mind. Yet he was also a warrior from another galaxy, a courageous adventurer who had volunteered to stand at her side to battle terrors he had never faced before. What woman in her right mind would not be attracted to such a man?

She had been well aware of all this for some time of course, yet today, as he had arrived bearing blossoms for her and Ketra, his eyes sparkling with his usual teasing humour, she had seen an unexpected new sadness in him that had pulled sharply at her own regrets. It had been strange how frequently they had met and worked together over the last half of a year, but, in parting today, she knew full well that she may not enjoy his company again, and if she were, it would likely be in a far more public manner.

In the faint sadness she had seen in his expression, she had imagined that perhaps he too might feel the same sense of impending loss. For it was unlikely they would be able to sit alone together again, but today would allow them at least a few hours in isolation to enjoy each other's company.

And sitting beside him today, on her favourite bench, had seemed so much more profound than it should. His handsome presence had seemed to seep into her, tempting her softly to step over the unseen unspoken line between them where new friendship might drift into something more intimate.

As if he had heard her thoughts, he had then leant closer to her, using playful words and a charming handsome smile, but she had understood the invitation, carefully concealed though it had been among the banter and the warmth of their unusual friendship.

She enjoyed him so much, his manner, his words, and his ability to tease her about almost anything, even her Elite status. With him, she felt more herself than at almost any other time. Even when with her family she felt the pressure of her Elite position, but with John, he made things light where normally there was weight and isolation. Today, those qualities had seemed even more valuable to her, easing the burdens of her life into the delightful temptation of him. And in his eyes, she had seen the promise of that passion, of a shared indulgence that he too wished to experience.

They had one day, a few hours only, so why not finally taste what had been lingering between them for so long?

Her natural response, from deep inside her where her feelings were stirring as rapidly as the temptation and glowing arousal, was to say an immediate 'yes' to his offer. Yet, she had made a mistake similar to this before when she had stepped over a line with Kanaan. He had thought their status of lovers would mean she would change for him, that she would wish a family life with him away from the Elite. They had both been to blame for that mistake, his for not truly understanding who and what she was, and hers for having known that and still having stepped over that line from friendship into shared intimacy. She had realised her mistake quickly enough, but he had not taken the break well, and ultimately he had chosen to leave the Sythus to be apart from her. In one swift action, they had destroyed a happy childhood friendship.

John was very different from Kanaan, as was the situation, but she could not help now comparing the same decisions in moving from friends to lovers.

However, the temptation of John was far deeper, driven from the pure womanly part of her that was so often restrained. Not since her youthful first days of love had she felt so physically drawn to a man.

She was not an innocent young lover now though, for she understood consequences. Far more than most.

Only, if they were not to see each other again – what was the harm?

They both desired each other, and it was born from a very real friendship and a shared experience of the battlefield. She wished to enjoy that mixture and to experience all that his smile and lean strong body promised.

So, she had invited him to her quarters, ostensibly so that he could pass his gift to Ketra, but also to create the potential space. To see if this choice was real and if the line really was ready to be crossed.

He had seized the opportunity more decisively than she had expected, having wandered into her bedroom, full of tempting teasing humour, which had quickly heightened the sensual tension between them. As they had talked, he had gradually moved towards her, sensing her invitation as she had his before, until the moment had arrived when he had dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss had been so much more than she had expected. And in that delicate and honest first press of lips, she had sensed how powerful the spell was between them.

She had immediately voiced the concern that she suspected he too had considered - that their decision might have substantial consequences in the future, for their 'friendship' might not last between their peoples as it was. He had understood and agreed, and that had been enough for her. He was willing to embrace the moment, as she was, and let the future be what it would be. Any further reservations that might have lingered had then been quickly chased away into the shadows as his mouth had touched against hers once more. The following soft pleasurable kisses had finally loosened the last of her restraints, as she had allowed herself to embrace the now and the undeniable potential between them.

So she had paused their kisses and set the newly drawn line between. Some rules were necessary, and to which he had added one of his own – that they leave their work out if this shared experience. She had willingly agreed to his terms, for today's experience was purely about them, as Teyla and John, and for this time at least, they could set aside all pretence of their peoples and cultures to focus on what was real between them.

Only she had added the one main Elite rule when with a lover, and to which John seemed more than willing to accommodate as he drew her closer to him once more, his mouth lowering to hers.

That exquisite kiss lingered now, scattering her remaining thoughts so that all she could focus upon was the softness of sliding lips and tongues, of gentle sweeping caresses and soft quickly captured breaths. However, deep inside, a stronger demanding need was steadily growing, so with one last slow taste of him, she pulled her lips softly from his and pulled back to look up at him.

"Very well," she whispered as if he had asked her the question, or perhaps she had of herself.

She slid her hands from the front of his chest as she moved backwards away from him. She reached down to her hips, pulled free her weapons and set the blade and stunner down on top of the wooden chest stood at the end of her bed. Looking back towards him, she released the clip at the front of her belt, loosening the holsters from their confining pressure around her.

John's gaze had lowered to her hands, his plump parted lips silent for perhaps the longest time since she had known him. She smiled as she tugged free her belt and set it down alongside her weapons.

Next she reached up to her side and pulled down the small fastener that held her top tight around her middle. The fabric loosened slightly from around her ribs and breasts, and at the same moment, John blinked out of the frozen staring position he had been locked in.

His eyes snapped up to hers, an unmistakeably excited smile now animating his still lips. He stretched out one arm, his hand finding the edge of the open bedroom door without him taking his eyes from her, and he pushed the door shut. Teyla noticed, across the small, darkened lobby outside the door, that Ketra had chosen this moment to peer round the living room's doorway, but the bedroom door closed solidly, enclosing Teyla and John in her bedroom alone together.

Teyla returned her attention to John, seeing his hands working free the buttons of his jacket as he moved towards her.

"Remember that your clothes will need to look presentable for the wedding ceremony later," she reminded him as she indicated the tall stool set to the side of the window onto which he could pile his clothes securely.

"Good point," he replied, recognising the importance of preventing crumpled clothing for the official ceremony later.

Smiling at him, she turned away, moving along the side of her bed. As she walked, she pulled her top up and off her. The cooler air of the room rushed across the sensitive skin of her belly and upper chest, though her bra warmed her aching and equally as sensitive breasts.

Purposefully keeping her back to him as she made her way to the shelf by her bed, she hung her top on a wardrobe door handle and only then turned back towards him, affording him the view of her front.

He had removed his jacket already, revealing his tight black shirt beneath, which she had so enjoyed seeing wetted down on Milioc. Today though she would get to enjoy what was beneath it.

She made sure to wait until his eyes rose up her body to meet her gaze again, before she smiled and bent forward to begin freeing herself from her boots. She knew full well that he had a very good view of her breasts from this angle. She heard him chuckle, and she smiled as she set her boots aside. As she pulled her socks from her feet, she glanced along the length of her bedroom to see him setting his boots aside and the attractive width of his strong bare feet on her carpet.

Left in only her trousers and her bra, she stood upright again, letting her eyes wander up John's body. He was well aware of her perusal she was certain, and as he set about pulling free the time-keeping device and the black band from around his wrists, she enjoyed the twisting lines of his body as he set them on the stool with his jacket.

She met his gaze again as he pulled a long chain up over his head, two small metallic rectangles dangling from it. He smiled at her as he set the chain on the stool as well, and only then did he reach down to the hem of his black shirt.

Her mouth dry, her heartbeat faster than it should be whilst simply standing watching a fully clothed man, she watched him pull up the fabric and suddenly she was presented with the full view of his belly, chest, and shoulders.

He twisted to the side again to fold his shirt on the stool, and the movement played wonderfully across the long lean lines of his toned body. She had seen him bare-chested once before, whilst he had been given his Elite tattoo, but at the time he had been sat turned from her, now she had a full unobstructed view of him.

He began to move towards her, dressed now only in his trousers, which she noticed sat nice and low on his hips.

"Are there any more rules I should know about?" He asked her as he approached, his attention on her, but he was reaching down to his right thigh to pull his gun free from its holster. He glanced down briefly at the weapon to check it was safely secured, and as he reached her, stopping an inch or so away, his strong masculine flat toned chest directly in front of her, and he reached around her. His arm slid against the outside of hers as he reached behind her and set his weapon down on the bedside shelf directly behind her.

His arm felt wonderfully provocative against hers, and he had leant a fraction closer to her, drawing her eyes to the strong lines of his throat and collarbones. She licked her lips as she focused on her answer, whilst subtly drawing in the scent of him.

"Although our medical professionals have both cleared us, it would be best to protect us both nonetheless," she managed to reply levelly despite it being strangely difficult to think and speak clearly, his close heated presence becoming so desperately distracting.

Before she lost all focus, she reached to her left, making sure to brush the edge of her shoulder faintly against his chest as she did so, and pulled open one of the series of small drawers set into the built-in storage. She dug deep inside the drawer that held her medical supplies and pulled out two small packets that would ensure protection. She turned back to him, showing them to him, but he only nodded, seemingly familiar enough with the sheaths. Pleased, she turned and set the sterilised packets down on the shelf, between her time-keeping device and his weapon. She made sure to brush herself against him once again as she turned back, and she was almost certain she had heard him inhale deeply as she looked up at him again. Only a shadow near the angle of his jaw caught her attention.

"You are still wearing your communication device," she reminded him, about to reach up for it, but he moved faster, the long thick length of his forearm grazing against her through the tiny distance between them as he reached up to his ear.

"Oh, yeah, mustn't forget that," he said with a playful casualness.

He pulled the device from around his ear, checked it was turned off, and then, once more, he reached around her, with his other arm this time, to set the radio device on the rapidly filling shelf behind her.

She smiled at him as he teased her with his closeness again, which she suspected was in playful retaliation for her watching him remove his clothes. However, this time he did not lean away from her again, and she gave in to her own temptation to break the stalemate.

She reached up and slid one hand across the light blaze of his chest hair that covered the wide strong space of his chest. Hair tickled her fingers and his warm bare skin beneath teased her fingertips. She considered pressing her lips to him already, but his chin brushed against her cheek and she lifted her mouth to meet his.

This kiss was as slow and as thorough as the ones before, but now, with so much skin teasingly grazing close, and his scent so much stronger around her, she felt the growing change within it.

His hands slid around her waist, his long warm fingers spread wide as he wrapped his hands around her back and pulled her gently towards him. She willingly complied at finally closing the electrified distance between them, and as she pressed her thinly clothed breasts against the solid plane of his chest, she almost whimpered into their kiss.

He opened his mouth further, pushing the kiss deeper and she met the rising arousal equally, entwining her tongue with his as they angled their heads further to enjoy the new depth. The warm support of one of his palms against the back of her head lured her into surrendering further into the luscious deep kiss.

Breathing heavily around the kiss, she ran her hands over his back, following the natural landscape of him down to the low waistband of his trousers. She needed him naked against her for the last of his clothing was too much now, especially as she was very much aware of the colder sharp shape of his belt's buckle digging into her belly. Therefore, she slid her hands gently around the lines of his stomach, feeling the faint twitching response of his muscles under her touch. She smiled into their kiss, and his mouth loosened against hers as she closed her fingers around the buckle. She pulled her body back just enough from his so that she could slide her fingers around the lines of alien designed buckle, seeking out how to open it. The heat emanating off his body across the tiny space between them was intoxicating though, and she had to force her attention away from the tempting sight of the line of his pectorals in order to focus on the belt buckle.

Just as she discovered how to release the belt, his hands had begun to explore as well, his fingers grazing along the band of her bra, seeking the concealed clip that would free it from her. She smiled at their mutual dealing with alien clothing, but she was ahead, having pulled open the buckle now to loosen the wide belt from around his waist, but there was more to be undone.

She slid her hand down the front of his right thigh to the strap that held his leg holster in place, while his nose and lips slid up her throat to her ear in response. As she ran her hand around the strap, seeking how to loosen it, his fingers discovered the clip of her bra strap, hidden in the inner shadow of one breast. As he fingered the flat clip, working out how to open it, she ran her hand around to his inner thigh, squeezing her hand between his legs to find the end of the holster's strap. She felt his smile against her skin as she tugged the strap open, the sound loud in the sensual quiet. Pleased with her work, she drew her hand back up to his waist, but in doing so, teasingly briefly bushed her hand against his groin, causing his breath to hitch for a second.

Smiling, she reached both hands around his waist pulling his belt from around him entirely and she twisted to the left to hang it up on one of the wardrobe handles. As she did, his fingers, with a quick skilful twist, freed the clip of her bra. The strap wrapped around her back and he helpfully made sure it was quickly freed as she made a little too much work of ensuring his holster belt was were securely set aside. As she looked back up at him, the cups of her bra loosened and she rolled her shoulders enough to help the top straps to fall free and the bra fell from her into his hands. He dropped it instantly aside, his hooded dark eyes fixed on her bare breasts as she ran her hands back up across the wide expanse his chest.

His fingers grazed up her sides, up around the outer swells of her breasts and, achingly slowly, he covered her with his hands. The full heat of his palms surrounded her weight, supporting and lifting enough so that her nipples pressed tightly into the depth of his palms. She closed her eyes at the delicate massage, her arousal rushing up so much higher. She closed her own hands over his, pressing his touch closer, as she opened her eyes and looked up at him with a light-headedness that was surprising but strangely enjoyable.

His mouth descended to hers, and she reached up, sliding her hands around his neck to pull him tighter into the wet faster kiss. His breathing was louder against her and the kisses shorter as his hands stroked her breasts, pulling gradually away until just his fingertips surrounded her nipples. She moaned with delight at the sensation and how his kisses pressed against her cheek to her throat, to her shoulder and then, lowering his head further, his wet hot mouth surrounded her left nipple.

She arched up into the blissful sensation of his tongue sliding around her nipple, stroking, sucking, and teasing. She ran her hands into his hair, gripping tightly for a moment before she ran them back down to his shoulders. She opened her eyes as she ran her hand over the back of his tattooed shoulder. The marking that she designed for him, inked permanently into his skin, was abruptly powerfully erotic. She clenched the flesh of his shoulder, squeezing the marked muscles as he moved his mouth to her other nipple, leaving the other wet and rousingly chilled against the air.

She gasping loudly and happily as he pleasured her, she ran her hands down his upper back, stroking as much of his skin as she could reach stood in this position. She teased her fingers down the long line of his spine, and then back up the arched bunched toned lines alongside it, right up to the back of his neck, squeezing the ropey muscles tensed over her.

He finally broke him mouth from her sensitive aching skin to nuzzle into her cleavage. She stroked her hands round to the sides of his jaw to encourage him back up to her kiss, eager to share more. He straightened and she pressed her mouth to his, the kiss, wet and seductive.

She tightened her hands on him as she turned, drawing him with her so that they were right up against the side of her bed, the mattress pressing against her knee. She parted their lips, licking across his lower lip before she pulled back from him. He watched her with darkened glazed eyes, his hands never leaving her hips, as she knelt up onto the bed, encouraging him with her. He did not require very much encouragement.

She shifted backwards giving him more space on her bed as he knelt onto the mattress with her, his hands grazing back up her sides to her breasts as their mouths met again.

His kiss was now more of a possessive male, his own need more on the surface, and as they pressed flush against one another, she felt the harder press of his erection against her. She imagined he was growing more uncomfortable, and the thought was barely across her thoughts when he pushed his body further against hers, reaching one long muscular arm down onto the mattress as he encouraged her backwards. She tensed immediately, feeling his weight beginning to come down over her, so she twisted them, holding tightly to one of his shoulders as she pushed against the other. He recognised immediately and corrected their descent so that they landed on the mattress on their sides.

"Sorry," he apologised breathlessly, but she was happy that he recalled the rule that she would not lie under him. She reached for his jaw, as she slid her upper leg over his hip, pulling him tightly to her once more. He met her kiss, but he pulled back after a second and, for a moment, she feared he had changed his mind over agreeing to the rule. Some men read too much into it, feeling it made them submissive, but John was simply dipping his head, his mouth falling to her throat, then lower to her collarbone, sliding down to her breast. She clasped her hands in his hair in respect to his talented tongue once again sweeping around her nipple.

She moaned in delight as he licked over the peak, and he pulled back to make room for his hand caressing down her stomach, heading straight for the closed front of her trousers. He fingers found the line of tiny clasps that held the trousers tight around her, and he pulled further up from her with a smile as he wrestled again with her clothing design. She rolled onto her back to make it easier for him to see the closings and so that she could enjoy watching him frowning down at her clothing.

"You've got some tricky clothes," he told her with a teasing grin as he knelt up, understanding that he needed to slide some of his fingers under the waistband to be able to free the clasps from the front. The feel of the back of his fingers squeezed in against the skin of her lower belly was highly arousing, and she could tell that he knew it. He freed the top tiny clasp and began to work his way down the line, gradually parting her trousers from her.

"You seem to be handling them well," she assured him, hearing the wanton tone in her own voice. She was not sure she had heard herself talk like this before.

"You sure it's not some Elite test?" He joked. "You're only worthy if you can unwrap the present," he added with a victorious glint in his eyes as he reached further into her trousers than was necessary to free the lowest clasps.

"Perhaps it should be a test," she considered, wriggling slightly against his knuckles brushing over her mound as he freed the last clasp. "If it were, you have passed," she assured him with a smile.

"You're not unwrapped yet," he told her and her breath caught at the sensual promise in his soft voice. The clasps freed, he pulled on her waistband and began the final stage of 'unwrapping'.

She wriggled and lifted her backside off the mattress to assist him as he unpeeled the trousers from her hips and then down her thighs. He bent down over her and pressed a nuzzling kiss to her lower belly, then to the top of one thigh. She bit her lower lip as she watched his mouth descend again to above her knee, before he knelt up again and pulled her trousers off her feet in a flourish. However, he quickly reached back up her legs, reaching for the last layer, the thin tight underwear that were not all that attractive she suspected, but they was functional. He didn't seem to care either way as he slid his fingertips under the straps at her hips and gently pulled the last of her clothing down off her hips and down her thighs.

The sexual tension rocked higher in that slow reveal. His attention seemed fixated on that simple task and she watched his face as the air slid over her entire body. He sat on his heels and gently tugged her underwear off her feet and then, with a victorious grin, he threw that last scrap of her clothing aside.

She laughed at how pleased he was at having divested her of her 'wrapping', and for a second, she was struck by the fact that it had been a very long time since she had laughed during lovemaking.

"So this is where they end," John said, pulling her awareness back to him and his hand sliding up her left thigh, up to the front of her left hip where the line of her tattoos ended. At least for the time being. There would no doubt be more, if she survived long enough to claim another Wraith Queen's life and marking.

She lifted her head from the mattress enough to look down herself to the last entries of her markings, which disappeared under John's caressing palm. The last marking was still relatively new, and the skin felt somehow more sensitive with John's attention on it.

"How many do you have?" He asked her with the curiosity that she was used to regarding her markings.

She did not consciously keep note of the number anymore, though she could easily count them up in her mind if she so chose. She knew each marking by heart and could easily discern where one sliding, angled marking separately from the next in the long line that wrapped around her. Though the markings were a testament to the Elite, and humanity's, victory against the Wraith, they were still also a reminder of the violence of her life. Each marking was a brutal battle she had lived through and each a violent death, sometimes not just of the Queen and her hive, but of fellow Elite and friends she had seen killed. She wore the markings to be the Elite she was, but also to honour those who had fallen to the Wraith. However, she did not need to be reminded of the exact number, which was why she had the tattoos inked into her skin and then she moved on.

She looked down the length of her naked body to the latest marking, across which John's fingertips now stroked. It sat just inside her hipbone, a hands' breath from her womanhood, which right now felt the most vital of landmarks.

"I do not keep count," she told him, and she heard the defensiveness in her voice, which she regretted considering the situation with John. Especially as he seemed quite fascinated with the markings on her skin. However, there was one marking that made her smile.

"This one," she said reaching down to her own hip to touch the second oldest marking, "This is the Queen that we killed together." She traced the outline of the relevant tattoo among the interlinked designs. "Oneakka insisted that I take a marking as well."

John's fingers slid up to hers on the tattoo. "The one on Mada," he said quietly.

"Yes," she replied her attention turning to his shoulder behind which his own marking was out of view.

She reached up towards him and slid her hand over his shoulder. He had dipped his shoulder slightly allowing her to see part of his tattoo and she ran her fingers over its wing-like outline. She had never thought of markings as being erotic before, but now she knew she would forever recall this one particular design on his back in a very different light. If she and John were never to see one another again, they would still carry a piece of the other in that shared battle. In their shared markings.

"It suits you, John," she told him honestly.

His gaze met hers, the eye contact direct and open, and she suspected he might also be dwelling on that recalled mission together and its significance for them now. Usually on thinking of that fight, she had always felt the haunting echo of Iketani' blade in her back, but now, looking up at him, she only remembered the vulnerable safety she had felt in his arms, held protectively against his chest as he had pulled her to safety. She knew that from now onwards, all she would choose to remember of that mission to Mada was the feel of his protection and care.

John broke their silent drawn eye contact first, his gaze falling to the Mada marking near her hip.

"Mine's not as nice as yours," he told her as he leant down and pressed a kiss to the tattoo that linked them.

She smiled at the gesture, only then his mouth nuzzled lower, his nose, lips and breath following the line to the freshest of markings inwards of her hip. She heard her own loud intake of breath as he licked over the final point of last tattoo, his hands on her thighs. Her knees parted of their own accord as she grasped his shoulder, her eyes on his mouth pressing further down her belly.

His mouth lifted from her skin as he shifted his body further down the mattress, dislodging her hand from his shoulder as he moved, his hand sliding down her left thigh. His hand was a gentle encouraging weight to part her legs further, and she felt the approaching warmth of his breath a moment before touch of his mouth against her most intimate of flesh.

She gasped loudly at the kiss, her eyes squeezing shut as her body arched of its own accord, her head dropping back, too heavy to support. His mouth and fingers were majestically arousing, pouring fire onto the burning intensity that had been contained somewhat by their conversation, but now once again raged free.

She parted her legs further around him, surrendering entirely to the pleasure and the driving peak of potential ecstasy that his intimate touch was driving her to. She was aware of her loud gasps and moans, but they seemed distant when all she could focus on was the overwhelming pleasure of his mouth, his kiss, his tongue.

The wave of rushing pleasure was growing, rising and rushing onwards towards the cresting point.

His hands were on her hips now, holding her to him as well as giving her the pressure to rub herself against him with the rhythm of the pleasure, of his tongue, of her heartbeat racing. Racing towards the peak, the blissful intense promise, which she willingly let him push her towards.

Her orgasm struck her in a sudden roaring wave, tearing hot passion spreading intense pleasure throughout her body, sparkling across every nerve ending, and blanking her awareness of the universe for a long infinitely sharp rushing moment.

Then, pouring swelling sweet warmth and relaxation soothed through her like the softest of pillows filling her in a caress of pleasured peace.

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>TBC<p> 


	38. Freedom

**Note1: **Apologies for my long absence from this fic. I broke my foot days after I posted the last chapter and, without boring you all with details, it's been a long tiring pain-filled couple of months, through which I have still had to walk to work (much of the time on crutches) and back again every day. As I am sure you can appreciate, writing fanfic after a 10 hour working day that was full of pain, was not high on my priorities and my Muse was in no way going to cooperate in that state.

Thank you to those who sent messages to me, if I didn't to thank you personally, I apologise. As it stands now, I am mostly pain free, but still have some way to go with my recovery. I really appreciated people's concern, and thank the ladies at Beya for their continuing understanding at my reduced involvement in JT fandom of late, especially Camy, Foxy, and Pdelae.

**Note2:** I also apologise for the point at which I had to leave this story! Though perhaps it was a good point to pause, I'm not sure. I am sure, however, that most of you will not mind re-reading the last couple of chapters to remind yourselves exactly where we left our two favourite characters ;) Which brings to me reminding you all that this is an M rated fic (especially this chapter – hey, it's been a LONG run up to this point).

**Chapter 38 – Freedom**

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Warm pleasure glowed throughout her body, pouring out relaxation and ease in its wake. Her eyes closed and her breathing slowing once more, Teyla indulged the moment; fully submerging herself into the sensation for as long as possible.

As the relaxation continued to roll and sparkle through her though, it began to bring with it renewing passion, yet also a deep peaceful ease that she had not experienced before. It was a peaceful relaxation borne from the knowledge that she was currently free of all expectation and station. She was not Honoured Elite Emmagan right now, she was simply Teyla; and Teyla gloried in the temporary, but wondrous, sense of freedom. There was no need for appearances right now, not with the man settled between her parted legs.

The bed shifted under her as John's hand slid up over her lower belly once more, teasing arousal once more with just the mere grazing of his palm over her bare skin, and, in that arousal, there was nothing but enjoyment and surrender. Nothing for her to worry about, nothing to plan for or avoid - there was just her and John, both surrendering to a desire and passion they had sensed between them for many long months. That surrender was liberating in a way she had not experienced before, to feel the weight of her, usually enjoyable, life lift its weight from her shoulders for a short time. And in its absence, she willingly surrendered to the pleasure and relaxation she hadn't realised she had secretly been seeking.

In a short time, she and John would return to their lives, to their military positions, her station, the expectations on her, and her own powerful drive to fight the Wraith, but, right now, there was only her and John. There was nothing to do but enjoy one another without expectation, for she suspected that she might not again be able feel so free with another again. Therefore, she would enjoy every moment of her relaxation, of her play, away from her usual demanding life, and that liberation made her smile now, widely and brightly, as she opened her eyes to the white painted ceiling above her.

John's touch glided smoothly around her hip, sliding and softly exploring, only to pause a moment before his warm breath ghosted over her lower belly. Delight sparkled sharply at the kissing touch, and she smiled wider as she lowered her gaze from the patches of sunlight glowing across her bedroom ceiling, down to the sight of her hand running through John's dark crop of hair as he pressed another kiss to her lowest marking.

She felt his smile in the aftermath of his soft kiss, felt the teasing arousal as he brushed his lips further up her belly, his shoulders sliding against her inner thighs.

She ran her fingers through the short spiky appeal of his hair, massaging his scalp, as the sparks of her arousal grew brighter again with his breath over her skin. The sensation of him, of the sight of him, pushed the sparkles of passion higher once more, and at her deepest centre, she began to feel an empty ache desperately wishing to be filled. Running her hands through his hair, she felt his next kiss, placed with open lips beneath her belly button, igniting the new fire and ache only brighter still. Unwilling to lie back and simply accept any more, she pushed herself up from the bed, towards John, her hands sliding around his neck.

He lifted up to meet her, his eyes dark and warm, and his lips swollen and tempting. The soft scrape of his growing stubble crossed her palms as she cupped his jaw, the strong lines of his features seeming even more handsome in the monochromatic world of sunlight and shadow of her bedroom.

Sat up, his arms propping him up on either side of her hips, she pressed her mouth to his, celebrating in their mutual desire and her own rising desirous delight.

She was free to enjoy him, to enjoy physical passion. There was no expectation here, no standard, and no other eyes or ears waiting just behind a door to speak with her, to request orders or to report dangerous news.

There was just the two of them, the sunlight, and dark alluring shadows of his dilated eyes meeting hers as their lips parted.

000

She was like a lightening bolt through him, shocking, electrifying, and soul destroying.

Her orgasm had almost robbed him of his, to see this powerful, stoic, warrior woman give herself up to him so completely, to the passion he gave her – it was humbling in a way that had threatened his confidence as she had sat up again, reaching for him, pulling him into another kiss. Only he couldn't hold onto those nervous fears for long, to the worries that he wasn't going to be able to hold on, or live up to the orgasm he had given her. For this kiss was deep as before, luxuriating and in its smooth wetness he lost the ability to do anything but slide his arms around her naked body and pull her as close to him as possible. Only he was still half knelt between her legs, and she was moving. Moving up closer to him, her hands tight around his neck to keep their mouths together, and then her breasts were pressing against his chest, robbing him of anything other than the ability to touch and share another intoxicating kiss.

Their lips parted with a wet sound, which was somehow profoundly erotic for him, but he managed to pull back enough to see her face in it's entirely once more. The sunlight making it through the net curtaining over the wide windows far to his left, cast bright flattering light over her skin, causing the golden beauty of her to shine even brighter. Mesmerised, he watched her rise up higher, and only when she pressed hard against one of his shoulders, did he understand what she wanted.

"On your back, John," she told him, the tone almost of an order, but it was filled with sensual promise, as was the lift of her lips and the sparkle in her eyes.

It helped somewhat, because his brain switched on again with the order. He grinned up at her, enjoying the strange merger now of Honoured Elite and lover, only this wasn't the Elite warrior or cautious political figure, this was Teyla. For the first time, he was entirely certain of that fact, and it thrilled in ways he couldn't even process.

Grinning at her, he willingly dropped his left shoulder down towards the mattress, but he didn't let go of her as he rolled down onto his back. His arms around her, he pulled Honoured Elite Teyla, naked and sensual, down over him and replied, "Yes, Mistress," with his best seductive teasing smile.

He had felt her momentary tension as he had pulled her with him, but she had gone with it a split second later, and her weight came down over his body in a rush, pressing them tightly together within his embrace. Her body lay entirely along his in that moment, only he was, stupidly he decided, still wearing his pants.

As that thought passed through his brain and back out again, she was pulling up from his chest, one of her legs now settling over his hips, so that she was now sitting aside him. Something exploded in his brain for sure as he took in the sight.

It took him a second to notice the teasing rebuking expression on her face, which he realised was due to his Mistress comment, but he just smiled up at her, letting her see that he saw right through her pretend annoyance with him. She was sitting astride him, her hands sliding down his chest, her magnificent naked body confident and glorious in the sunlight above him, so there was no place for any pretence anymore. She was Teyla right now, not Honoured Elite Emmagan, and he wasn't ever going to forget the difference.

He caressed up her sides, her skin so soft and feminine, enjoying the freedom to touch her like this, to know that she responded to him so passionately. He caressed around and up to her breasts, taking their weight into his palms.

"Many have died for speaking to an Elite in such a tone," she told him, her voice huskier than ever before, and though he didn't doubt what she was saying, he still wasn't fooled.

He smiled knowing up at her, meeting her eyes directly as he gently stroked her breasts. He felt her nipples tighter further in his hands, but his attention was fixed on beautiful face, as she considered his 'disrespectful' manner. His smile became a grin as he saw her smile widen, and he watched as her tongue slid out wetly across her lips, leaving them shining with moisture.

"Perhaps another form of torture will be more appropriate for you," she suggested as she leant down over him again. He kept his hands on her breasts for as long as was possible as her mouth approached his, only sliding his fingers away at the last moment. Her mouth pressed against his, only to lift away almost immediately, then she pressed kiss against the side of his chin, and another further along his jaw. He closed his eyes at the wet kisses, while he caressed both hands across her bare back, following the soft toned lines of her down to the roundness of her hips, around and down along the lines of her upper thighs pressed against his sides.

Yet again he felt delight and shock that she was allowing him to touch her, to run his hands freely over her. That her mouth was wet and hot around his ear lobe, her hands sliding down his chest, her nipples grazing his skin either side of her caressing hands. She smelt so good, so womanly, so arousing, and as her mouth slide down the side of his throat, he felt a literal shudder pass through his body.

He was pretty sure he had guessed her plan, to torture him with kisses, with pleasure, only he wasn't so sure he could hold off his hairpin trigger with her wet tongue sliding over his collarbone. She bit his skin gently and he swore quietly to himself, desperately ordering some of his blood northward. And then her mouth found his right nipple, her tongue swirling around and over the sensitive tiny tip.

As she lifted her mouth from him for a moment, he drew a relieved breath, and took his opportunity to relatiate. He ran his hands back around her hips, then reaching further to cup her backside. He cupped her buttocks tightly, and she wriggled backwards into his grip, which resulted in her brushing backwards over the straining front of his pants.

His breath caught as he pressed her closer to where he wanted her most of all. Only, yet again, she was moving, lifting herself back away from his restrained aching erection. He looked up to see her knowing smile, confirming clearly for him that this was indeed her form of 'torture'. He tried desperately to think of something witty and cool to say to her, to let her know that he was on to her game, and that he could hold on just fine. However, some part of his brain, possibly damaged by his lowered IQ at having her sat naked on him, betrayed him and spoke first.

"You _are_ killing me," he said, and inwardly cringed, but she grinned brightly down at him, making him feel a little better about it.

"For Elite, there are many forms of attack," she told him, her bright teeth appearing between her smiling lips.

He pulled a face up at her, jumping at the chance to return some teasing to play along with their game, but not because he hated to think she had used this technique before with other guys.

"I see," he told her as he gripped her backside as best he could where she sat over him. Both her hands were running lazily up and down his chest, almost down to his stomach. "This is really all about getting Atlantis' secrets out of me, isn't it?" He joked, as he stroked his way back up to her breasts. God, she felt so good. And she wriggled herself against his lower belly again, moving her backside, and her wet warmth, a fraction closer to his groin.

"I thought we had agreed to keep our work out of this?" She asked him, which surprised him slightly, and he realised only then that he hadn't been totally believed she could keep work out of this. Only here she was being the one to remind him, seeming suddenly very serious about it.

"Umm, yes we had," he replied, wondering if he had crossed a line, if she was upset with him. Earlier he had almost lain on top of her, and then teased her Elite status. A sudden worried panic made him pause. "I just meant that…" he began to reply, only she grinned down at him again, shaking her head slightly, and he immediately realised she was playing with him. Clearly her IQ wasn't taking the same hit as his.

"I can see that I am once again going to need to save you from yourself," she told him, her hands trailing right down over his stomach this time, almost to where she was sat astride him.

He narrowed his eyes up at her, relieved, but also feeling slightly vulnerable that she had so expertly thrown him off his stride. Yet, excitedly pleased that she really was being so playful. He bet most guys would never have seen this side of her. He slid his hands around her back and pulled her down over him again, as he gave her a playful growl of annoyance.

She chuckled in the split second before he crushed his mouth against hers, silencing her teasing. He pushed the kiss deep, purposefully mimicking the penetration he wanted and forcefully pushing their penultimate boundaries.

The passion was suddenly sparkled bright and burning, her mouth meeting his kiss as forcefully and deeply as he wanted, pushing further, and he had a moment to realise that his plan was backfiring on him. He felt the tightening in his lower back as she rubbed herself against him, felt the promise of wet womanly heat against his erection, and even with the odd angle and the layers of clothing in the way, he had to break the kiss to slow things down.

Man, he hadn't gotten this overheated with a woman in a long time.

He kept his eyes closed a few beats longer, forcing his thoughts away from the naked hot woman over him, past the months of long desire and stolen fantasies, and onto something else.

Paperwork.

Wraith.

Wraith doing paperwork.

He snapped his eyes open at that stupidly amusing thought, but it had worked. He met her gaze again, to see her smiling with amusement down at him. A rush of embarrassment helped push back his orgasm even further, but he could see she was as pleased with herself as she was amused at his near loss of control.

"Hey, you came a lot faster than I will," he told her pointing to the space next to him where she had lain and had her explosively amazing orgasm. He realised again that he had spoken without really thinking first. What was this woman doing to him?

She grinned down at him, clearly pleased with herself, but then he supposed he had been somewhat smug himself before.

Her hands began sliding over his chest again in soothing sweeping motions as if she were enjoying drawing patterns across him.

"I am almost unwilling to finish this," she told him.

He liked that, though he suspected certain parts of him would drop off if he had to wait much longer. He knew that were she another woman, a woman from Earth, he would now reach up and flip them over, so that he could lie over her and push the 'completing this' part. Only he couldn't do that with Teyla, and besides, there was something exciting about not falling on old techniques and experiences. Instead, he did as he always had with her - he fell back on teasing and testing the depths of this thing between them.

"Enjoying me too much are you?" He asked with a purposefully smug smile up at her, as he slid his hands tightly around her hips, around the rich swells, and then forward down towards her groin, spread wide over his lower belly. He watched her lips part and then smile.

"Only in seeing how far I can torture you until you call me your Mistress again," she replied and laughter immediately bubbled out of him.

She rose up off him, high up onto her knees and twisted around so that she could reach the distorted front of his pants. As she worked free his fly, gloriously parting the fabric away from his straining flesh, he instead focused his attention on the fact that he could now easily reach between her legs.

He slid his fingers through the wet womanly folds, feeling she was even more swollen and ready than before. She moved against his fingers and he smiled as he watched her whole body undulate above him in response. Only then her hand was inside his pants, sliding under the waistband of his boxers, and her hand was abruptly surrounding him.

He pushed his head back into the mattress and closed his eyes for a breath, before lifting his head again and looking down his body to where she was freeing him from his clothing. He watched her hand slide down his straining length, and then squeezing gently back up towards his tip.

"You are wearing too much, John," Teyla's voice managed to penetrate his brain.

Immediately he sat up and pushed down his waistband, while her hands slid into his hair, her belly and breasts filling his view. Kicking free his pants and boxers, he wrapped his arms around her middle and slid his face between her breasts. Her hands tightened sharply and he heard the hitch in her breath, just as before.

He fell back onto the mattress, pulling her with him again, and this time she fell with him easily. A rushing fever seemed to be filling his thoughts now, so that all he could do was touch, taste, and yearn.

000

She had planned to explore every inch of his strong masculine body, teasing and tempting as she went, tasting and pleasing, but suddenly the gentle aching arousal had ignited into an explosive need.

Where she had been ready to tease and stroke him, his response had pulled her so abruptly into his passion that she surrendered once more.

Suddenly his mouth on her breasts was too much, too good, and not enough.

The emptiness between her legs was now a chasm throbbing for him, overwhelmingly drawing her to merge with him, to surrender entirely. The promise of it powered the feeling further. His hands were sliding over her skin, teasing, and then gripping her backside so firmly that she had to rub herself into his hold. His mouth on her breasts was such a continuing shocking pleasure on her nerves that all she could momentarily do was hold his head tightly to her and arch her back to press herself further against him.

His hand moved swiftly down between her legs again, his elegant pleasurable fingers pushing apart her flesh, stroking deep, full of physical promises, drawing out long loud moans from her throat. Only it was now too much, and the ache to take him into her too strong. She needed the fullness of his long swollen length, so she reached back, wrapped her hand back around him again, stroking and giving pleasure to him in turn as she leant back down over him. His fingers still inside her, his other arm wrapped tight around her back, bowing her down to him, his mouth hot across the sensitive skin of her throat.

"Teyla," he gasped against her ear, and it begged inside of her, pouring moisture around his touch, demanding faster and deeper caresses.

She broke up and away from him just long enough to reach out towards the shelf by her bedside. She almost fumbled for the small packet that would provide the thin barrier they would need for safety, and all that made her pause from taking this man.

She tore open the packet roughly and his fingers immediately took the sheath from her. Surrendering the task to him, she watched him reach between her legs to sheath himself. As he did so, she ran her hands over his bunching sweat-slicked muscles, and she pressed her mouth to his skin, kissing and biting his shoulder before he rolled back onto his back, reaching for her. His hands were demanding on her, pulling her down to him, his mouth pressing to hers with a forcefulness that gloriously told her that he was as lost into this frenzy as she was.

Reaching between their bodies, she knelt up high over him, shifting down the bed to hover over his manhood, hearing her own loud panting breaths mixing with his. His fingers slicked around her entrance, parting and teasing the way for him, for what she had ached and imagined for too long, and then he was filling her. The full and hardened head of his arousal teasing her flesh wider, but she was more than ready for him, and she reached for him, clasping his hands and then his arms as she slid herself fully down upon him.

He cried out with her, his a deep thoroughly masculine pleasured sound that she echoed with a roll of her hips, feeling him rubbing wonderfully deep.

It was just what she wanted, what she needed, what she had ached for.

Her head back, she rocked, pulling and lowering, rolling and squeezing with a deep powerfully fully elementally rhythm. His hands flowed over her, squeezing and massaging her breasts, stroking up her throat and then down, right down, through her cleavage, down to where they joined in the wet, moulding place in which he filled her. His fingers slid in to join the play, teasing and pleasuring her further, his giving unrestrained and uncaring as to who she was outside of this room.

She ran her hands down his long lean muscular arms, her eyes on him once more, and her arousal rose further. His lips were parted, his face held in a state of pure desire and longing, and his eyes were glazed dark and bright. His arms and chest flexed as his hands clasped tight around her hips, rocking them together.

It was so pleasurable, so wondrous. She arched back again, feeling the roaring approach of orgasm again, but she tried to hold it back for a little while longer.

His hands slid once more around her waist and up her back, urging her down towards him, and she willingly poured herself down over his straining hard strong body. His scent engulfed her, teasing her further towards another most wondrous of releases. Yet, she held on still, focusing now on the new angle, working with his arms around her back to slide with him as he pulled his length partly from her and then back deep inside her. She cried out with pleasure of the sensation, uncaring again, letting her voice sing out. No one would hear them, no one was close by, no one could stop them.

His arms tight and strong around her back gave her the resistance to move with him, yet also she knew he was holding her to him. Holding just close enough to be an embrace, but far enough away to allow free movement, moving together, seeking and raging together in the most basic of wondrous dances.

Moving faster with him, she rubbed and rolled her hips with his movements, squeezing and releasing, and listening to his broken breaths and moans as she did so. Then his open mouth was against her swollen breast again, his tongue wet and his teeth a soft encompassing grazing against her skin.

Gasping with the rush of further heightened appeal, she angled herself to one side to allow her right nipple to touch his lips, and he took it into the damp warmth of his mouth. As he sucked and licked hard, she strained over him, locking her arms against the mattress either side of him, letting him thrust into her, letting him do the work, pushing her further towards the passionate peak ahead of her again. All she could focus on was that pleasurable rush, his mouth on her, his arms around her, his full, thick length entering and leaving her, rubbing just where it most gratifying.

The moment of oblivion almost upon her, she lowered her body the last few inches to meet his fully, pressing her hot sweat licked body to his, and his mouth met hers in a push of deep penetration.

Then suddenly it was upon her, a rush of ecstasy even more blazingly bright than before. She threw back her head and cried out in abandon, gripping a tight hold of him as her body vibrated and tingling throughout with the physical bliss.

He held tight to her, filling her still, following their rhythm still, and it only prolonged her wondrous passion. Then, his hands digging deep into her backside, he froze under her, his hands clamping tighter around her. She opened her eyes to gaze down at him under her and watched as he tipped his head back against the mattress, his eyes tightly closed as he tensed up, physically lifting her up with him. His muscular arms and body clenching around her, a long powerful groan ripped from him as he withdrew and pumping into her again.

She savoured the moment of his orgasm, witnessing his entire body focused on his pleasure and releasing into his own blissful state. It aroused her even in her own overwhelming relaxation that was fast taking full control of her body.

She watched as, with a rush of breath, John began relaxing under her, the tension visibly flowing from him with the last of his weakened thrusts, and his tensed neck relaxed, his head falling back to the mattress once more. She felt his knees, having risen up behind her at the end, drop back down to the covers and he let out a long deeply satisfied panting sigh.

Smiling at his pleasure, and finally surrendering to her warmly soft exhaustion, she slumped down over him, resting her flushed cheek down onto his warm chest.

The fast steady thumping of his heart, loud under her ear, was all she was aware of over their panting breathing and the fast rising of his chest, lifting her with him each time. It was a strangely hypnotic sensation of being gradually lifted and lowered that small distance by his fast breathing. One of his hands slid up from her hip to rest heavily on the middle of her back, the weight of his palm seeming somehow to seep more relaxation into her.

For a moment, she felt a push of her normal compulsion to slide off a lover's body at this point, yet he felt so good, the lovemaking having been so overwhelmingly enjoyable, that she chose this time to remain, relaxed over him within his embrace. For a short time at least.

Only the steady sound of his heart, as well as their rapid breathing slowing gradually, became a type of soothing music, pushing her far too easily into a semi-conscious sleepy state in which she dreamt of drifting through clouds and sunlight.

She snapped awake from the dream, sure that not too much time had passed, but unsure exactly how much had slipped by her. Feeling comfortable and satisfied though, she gathered her strength to lift herself off John's warm body.

Awakening her limbs, she slowly pushed herself up enough to glance across the bed to where her time display stood on the shelf. It was not as late as she feared; they had plenty of time still until they had to be downstairs for the wedding ceremony.

Relieved that she had not slept for a prolonged period, draped over him like a needy blanket, she lifted herself up further from him, feeling somewhat regretful at parting her skin from his. Surprised by the feelings, usually unlike her, but understandable in the wake of such shared passion, she looked down at him, and was relieved to see him open heavy eyes; he had been dozing along with her.

His sleepy, yet bright, eyes met hers and he smiled. "Totally worth falling into that slaver's pit," he told her, his voice deep and thick.

The laughter bubbled from her at his surprising comment, and the flattering admission behind it, she slid from him, disconnecting them entirely, to lie down next to him instead.

She felt very good and still unencumbered by the reality of her, and John's lives, outside her quarters. They had time to lie here together, to calm their bodies further and enjoy the last of their time together.

"I would not let that tempt you to continue to get yourself into trouble," she told him as she settled down onto her back beside him. His thigh and arm brushing against hers as she did so, and she savoured the feel, letting her right knee rest against his.

As she settled, she became aware that some of her hair had come loose from some of her braids, so she set about slowly freeing her hair from the tight braids across her head. It always felt good to release her hair from the tight constraints that kept it always out of her eyes. She had learnt how dangerous it could be to have her hair obscuring her vision for even a moment in battle. However, she was free now to loosen it, to allow it free.

"I don't know," John replied beside her, "who knows what other fascinating sexy warriors I may meet if I do." She looked away from one braid to him and saw his teasing smile.

They both knew that from today onwards there would be no certainty that they would meet again, so there was no reason why she should feel a pull of jealous sadness at the suggestion, even if it was in jest. She smiled though, covering and ignoring the reaction.

"Perhaps I should find myself another personal slave," she replied thoughtfully to taunt him in response, looking up to the ceiling as if distracted by the thought as she worked her next braid free. "Since you have been put to such a successful use."

"Use?" John asked with exaggerated shock, playing along with their game, and she grinned down at the braid she was working free, knowing he could see her smile.

"But, you don't believe in keeping slaves though," John argued, logically.

She rolled her head to look at him lying next to her, across the width of their naked, closely pressed shoulders. She took in the sparkle of his unusually coloured eyes and the strong lines of his profile turned partly to her. He was so very handsome. She would miss him being around.

"And yet I have you," she replied, keeping her tone light and playful.

He narrowed his eyes at her and she laughed quietly as she looked away, starting on another braid. The small touch of sadness attempted to work free inside her again, but she suppressed it down.

They lapsed into an easy silence then, through which Teyla worked on freeing the last of her braids. It was a most comfortable way to lay, both of them, now lovers, naked and relaxed beside each other, and she let that soak into her, enjoying this time as profoundly as she could. Her hair finally all released, she ran her fingers through it all, and relaxed back down, securing the braid's ties into a bundle to use again later.

"It really is a pretty dress," John said, breaking the silence gently, and she looked round to him and then past him to where her dress for Zabetha's wedding ceremony hung in the filtered sunlight.

"Thank you," she replied, this time not feeling so self-conscious about the very feminine outfit, which was so unlike her usual clothing that he had seen.

"You might outshine the bride though," he added, looking back to her from the dress and she met his eyes. "That's a big no no where I come from."

"'No no'?" She asked repeating his phrase, whilst enjoying his compliment.

"It's an Earth phrase, it means that it's _so_ wrong that you say it twice," he told her as he rolled onto his side towards her, propping his head up on his hand. His uppermost leg slid over her right one to nestle comfortably between her legs, whilst his chest pressed up against her arm, his body warmth flowing over and along her side.

She watched his gaze slide over her hair, for it was the first time he had seen her hair freed from braids. He reached out with his free hand and touched a lock that lay over her shoulder closest to him. She watched him finger the strands of her hair, twirling the lock between his fingertips. He seemed to like it, and that knowledge pleased her far more than she would have expected. It should not matter to an Elite warrior what colour her hair was or how long it hung around her shoulders, yet seeing his clear enjoyment in her, she was pleased. Only, with that feeling there followed something far too vulnerable and sad.

Carefully, John laid the lock of her hair back down against her skin, his fingertips stroking down over it, and then beyond, across her skin, brushing teasingly against her breast as he reached for another lock of hair. The gentleness in his touch, as well as the subtle seduction, interested her in a way unlike before with a man.

Normally with past lovers, she would have left the bed by now and begun to dress, to create some distance, even if she did not leave. Saoka had understood that more than most, whilst Kanaan had tried to keep her in bed with recounted stories of their youth. Though she did not indulge such times as those, she understood the power the long quiet warm moments after lovemaking could create, and she had always sought to avoid them.

However, today, with John, feeling free of her usual position of an Elite warrior, she chose to remain beside him, enjoying the way he stroked another lock of her hair down against her skin to lay between her breasts. This was their time together, and as it was likely her last chance, so she would enjoy his company fully. Therefore, purposefully setting aside her usual urge to create distance, she let her eyes wander over him, taking in as much detail of him as she could.

She suspected that she would remember today for a very long time to come.

His fingers trailed from her lock of hair to stroke down the line of her markings. She smiled at his continuing fascination with them – symbols of death and violence, yet also symbols of victory, of the Elite and all they could do for the peoples of this galaxy. And perhaps also for John's galaxy as well.

"You really don't know how many of these you have?" He asked, his fingertips tracing along a curving tattooed line that turned under her right breast.

"If I put my mind to it, I could count how many Queens they represent," she replied honestly.

He nodded faintly in response, as his fingers strayed from the dark tattooed lines to slide gently back up the right side of her cleavage. She watched his face as he traced the swell of her breast, and she felt soothed by the soft teasing touch against her skin. It was strange to think that he was from another galaxy – though acutely handsome, he was by appearance like any man from this galaxy, yet he had grown up among stars so far away that she could not completely comprehend the distance.

"You truly have nothing like the Wraith in your galaxy?" She asked him, the idea almost as foreign to her as his people having come from another galaxy. She had lived her entire life under the rule of the Wraith, for even in battling them, her life was still ruled by their existence. What must it be like to live outside the shadow of the Wraith?

"No Wraith," he replied looking up to her face. "But, we have our own monsters." In his expression, she saw enough to tell her that he was not exaggerating his description.

"The parasite creatures you spoke of before?" She asked carefully, aware that in this subject matter, she had forced them away from their former humorous conversation, yet this might be her final time alone with him, and she found herself compelled to learn more about him and his life. What existed in his galaxy that had formed him into the strong able warrior that he was?

"They were one of them," he replied, his gaze dropping to where his fingertips had sought out the tip of another lock of her hair lying against her cooling skin. "Sometimes though," he added more quietly, "I think that humans can be far worse monsters."

She frowned at that comment, hearing clearly the presence of unspoken pains in what he did _not_ say, as well as in the subtle changes to his expression, his eyes focused down on where he touched her skin. She recognised the look in him now and in his voice – regardless as to where a person lived, the signs of painful memories, of trauma survived and horrors witnessed was the same.

She desperately wanted to ask him for more detail. What battles had he fought? What darkness by humans had he seen that could steal the light so easily from his eyes? She did not ask though, for in this she understood more than most – the need for privacy in one's military life, to hold and hide the experiences that had unfortunately helped forged you into the warrior of today. They had been groundbreaking experiences for her, as she was sure such events had been for him, but they would also be tortuous, raw, and unlikely to be forgotten. So, she did not ask him, she would not, yet she could not stop the circling questions of her own. In all their shared experiences of late, she had forgotten that he was somewhat of a mystery to her still, and that one session lying in bed together would not change that, especially when they would be heading in opposite directions after today.

Yet, she wished she could lie here with him for many hours more, free to ask him about his world in detail, and to learn the monumental events of his life. To hear the causes of the small scars she had felt on his body. She wished to know who had hurt him, in what situations, and how he had saved himself. She wondered if he had lost people very close to him, as most warriors of their age had, and what battle had shaped him the greatest.

However, they were both warriors, of different peoples, and later today they would return to their usual lives apart from one another. It was not her way to wish a deep connection with another, and it would serve either of them to do so.

So, she set aside such thoughts and needs, and instead focused once more on the present, as Elite always did. And right now she wished to return the light and ease between her and John. She angled her head to look at him more directly, her eyes grazing over the strong attractive lines of his face and body.

"Father tells me that you and Major Lorne have open invitations to attend the bantos championship."

He smiled at that, clearly also willing to turn their conversation away from the deeper and darker aspects of their lives. "We do, and Ford is seriously jealous." She smiled at that. "Think Vako will win?" He asked.

"I cannot say," she replied as was expected, for an Elite never took sides in such events, despite their own personal opinions.

He chuckled at her, his smile brightening his face.

"You're lying here naked with me," he said, "both of us probably likely to get into big trouble if anyone found out about this, and you're still toeing the party line?"

She frowned at the unknown phrase he had used, but she believed she understood his point and she smiled. "You make a valid point. Between you and I, yes, I believe Vako will win," she confessed to him.

"Cool," he replied, his fingers now caressing circles over her belly. "He isn't one of your past wooers, is he?"

"No," she replied amused at his teasing jealousy, "Simply a good sparring partner."

John lifted his eyebrows at that. "Like me?"

"I would not class you as a 'good' bantos sparring partner," she told him, pleased at his responding narrow eyed frown. "But, you are certainly an excellent verbal sparring partner."

He angled his head in partial acceptance of that. "I'm not a good partner for anything else?" He asked, his eyes sparkling.

"Yes, you are," she chuckled at his insinuation as she reached up and trailed her fingers down one side of his throat to the wide flat toned expanse of his chest. "I am sure you could become very skilled at bantos fighting, given time and training," she added, not wishing him to have taken offense at her comment about his sparring skills.

"Maybe I could find someone else here to teach me," he suggested and she felt a frisson of jealousy once again, though she nodded.

"There are, of course, some excellent teachers in Tjaru," she replied. "Maybe even Vako could instruct you from time to time."

"As long as it's not Si again," John replied with a grin.

She laughed at that, vividly remembering his two 'sparring' encounters with Si.

"It wasn't _that_ funny," he replied his hand lying flat over her stomach.

"It was for those of us watching you sparring with Si," she replied.

"You are wrecking some serious damage on my male ego, you know," he responded. It was an issue she was well aware of with men feeling intimidated by her strength and skill, but she had long suspected that for John it was not a point of difficulty.

"I _am_ an Elite warrior," she reminded him and he nodded his acceptance of the fact. "Besides, lying here with me does not satisfy your male ego somewhat?"

He grinned down at her. "Now that you mention it," he replied as he leant slowly down over her, his mouth descending towards hers, "it does."

She met his lips with hers, enjoying the smooth ease of their kiss and breathing in the masculine scent of him. He pulled back partly, and she saw the dark depth of his eyes.

"You know, if this is going to be the last time we see each other, I think I have a right to know," he told her softly.

She frowned at his point, not understanding what he meant, but understanding the teasing allure in his eyes. "To know what?"

"How many tattoos you have," he replied pulling back slightly so that he could look back down at her chest, and she felt the soft slide of his fingers slipping up from her stomach. "I mean, it's going to haunt me if I don't find out."

She grinned at such an exaggerated thought. "Haunt you?"

"Sure. I'm good with numbers, always doing number puzzles," he replied as his fingertips reached the underside of her left breast.

She tilted her head against the sheets, curious at this new fact about him. "Number puzzles? Like calculations?" It seemed a strange past time to engage in.

"Sometimes, but right now, I just really need to know how many of these you have," he said as his fingers trailed up the line of markings running down the left side of her cleavage. The touch was lighter than before, relaxed exploration having now turned to seduction once more. The teasing caress tickled her skin and sent sparkling sensation across to her nipples. "I really think I should count them all," he told her with mock seriousness, "To be sure."

She smiled at the idea, but also at the promise of pleasure such counting could lead to. Her markings ran down and wrapped around her, starting from under her left ear, down her cleavage, around her back, to run diagonally down to her left hip, where the line of tattoos ran round and down to the inside her left hip, where he had already spent a great deal of time caressing her latest marking.

She had no doubt as to how this tattoo counting would end.

She glanced away to check the time and then looked back to him stretched out naked alongside her. "I think we have the time for that," she said as she slid her hands up around his neck.

"Good," he replied with a sultry smile as his lips lowered to meet hers.

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>TBC<p> 


	39. Separation

**Note:** And so here, finally, are the last 2 chapters of this fic. Thank you to everyone who has supported and followed this fic all the way through. It's been a long slog, but I've gotten there. This trilogy of a prequel is complete and I am very pleased with it, and I hope you have all enjoyed it too. I am sure many will want to know if I plan to write more in this AU world after this, and to that my response is…of course :) Thank you again to everyone out there who has read this fic, even half heartedly and unimpressed. A big thank you especially to those at Beya for keeping the John/Teyla love alive, perhaps the last island of our ship left on the web? I hope that we can all try and keep it active for as long as possible – let's honour our chance to dream, to create, and to share in the fun.

**Chapter 39 – Separation**

0000

It was almost a shock, the difference. The room was full and bustling, and everyone inside it was totally preoccupied with one thing – preparation and perfection.

The hanging line of skirts, jackets and shirts, were tugged and pinned. Stray strands of hair were being plastered back and secured away from perfectly prepared coloured cheeks and lips. It was a mass of primly stiffened collars, flattened hems and twisted flowers set precisely in already elaborately prepared hairstyles.

It was an activity with which Teyla had little concern for normally, and she watched the almost crazed determined organisation with a curious detachment.

This was not her world, and everyone knew it. She stood to one side of the room, ready and prepared the moment she had entered, and no one approached her. No one bothered her with questions about her clothing, her hair, or to make excitedly anxious small talk. She was an island away from the mainland of patter, preening, and worries.

It was almost humorous to watch them all worry about something so simple as the arrangement of flowers in hair and hand, and the lying of already beautifully made clothing.

It was a different world to the one Teyla lived in. Here the perfection of skin and cloth was the most vital element of the universe, and even the tiniest stain or crease was feared as if it would mean the end of the fast approaching marriage ceremony. More excited faces entered the crush, cousins of Rhakshar and ushers with them, concerned at timing, which was greeted with overly anxious nods and further chattering.

Outside it all, Teyla stood, one hand resting at ease on the hilt of the one sword she wore, the one weapon on view. The familiar press of the sword's scabbard against her hip felt different though today, for it rested against soft thin cloth instead of strong body formed material designed to protect her. This dress protected nothing, except the presence of her two concealed knives.

John had taken great interest in how she had concealed them, hiding them even under such thin minimal clothing. However, she could have easily hidden more weapons under the dress, but had decided that two would be sufficient today. The memory of his hands sliding over the tightened gossamer knife strap around her thigh teased against her consciousness and she looked away from the patter and worry filling the rest of the room to look out the window to her left. All she could see through its frame was green leaves swaying in the gentle afternoon breeze, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Else when. Lingering on still sharp and arousing memories of her last few hours.

Her body felt relaxed and warm, and surprisingly comfortable in the dress she had made for her sister's wedding. She had worried it was too thin, too easily torn if she were to be pulled into a battle, and perhaps too pretty for an Elite warrior to wear. Only, John had admired it even before she had pulled it on. Then, hours later, he had assisted in pulling the flimsy fabric down over her body, and his hands had helped settle the silk over her hips and thighs. She had not missed the way his hand had lingered where he knew her knives were concealed. The straps had been designed most effectively, but the slide of such a sensitised questing palm down the length of her leg could not be fooled.

Someone laughed loudly across the room, and the sudden heightened sound drew Teyla's attention instantly, snapping her back to the present with awareness once more. It was of course only one of Rhakshar's younger relatives letting the thrill of the event get to them, but it shocked Teyla to realise how easily her mind had wandered away so unashamedly whilst in public. She returned her full attention to the room and it's near desperate last touches and adjustments towards perfection.

Movement in the far doorway heralded Rhakshar's arrival, which created a more fevered pitch to the happy concerns. Rhakshar simply smiled at all the faces around him, exchanging embraces whilst tailors' hands adjusted his long blue jacket the tiniest fraction to bring it closer to their ruler of precision. Rhakshar moved within the overbearing family attention as if he had always lived in its care and valued it, though his attention was drawn, as was his body, towards the centre of the room where Zabetha was sat, the centre of all the crazed attention.

Zabetha gleamed the brightest today, her skin radiant, her beautiful hair curled and pinned up in an elegant controlled spiral of strands and flowers. Her dress, of deep green and golden detailing, hugged her and flattered her as no other dress could. She rose to greet her soon to be husband, and her smile shone with ease and joy. Gone was her former nervousness, her worries over the tiny details of this ceremony, now her only concern was revealed in her small glance down at Rhakshar's side. The wound was healing well, and though he stood tall and smiling, Teyla could see the subtle shift of his weight that told of his hidden discomfort. It was only her warrior's eye that picked it out, for even from her distance across the room he looked delighted and at ease. He leant down the small distance between his and Zabetha's heights and pressed a chaste kiss to his future wife's lips.

A rush of something warm and painful rose up in Teyla's throat and chest.

Last week, she suspected, she would not have allowed herself to acknowledge the emotion's presence, but now, after what had almost happened to those she loved, and after the hours of pure freedom she had just returned from, had perhaps all loosened her restraint a fraction. Because it was Zabetha's day, because it represented changes so potentially powerful and unstoppable, and for the children that these two would one day take as theirs, Teyla allowed the emotion to rise higher. Just for today.

She watched her sister's hand gently slide down Rhakshar's side, carefully covering the area where, under the layers of fine rich clothing, his wound was carefully bound and hidden. It was a touch of concern, but also perhaps in acknowledgement of what the couple had survived, of what he had done to save her.

A pain he had suffered and near death experience survived that had changed much, but, ultimately, would pass by in their lives. They had survived, had perhaps grown even closer, but it was passed now.

And in that moment a warm and strangely surprising realisation settled on Teyla. Zabetha and Rhakshar would most likely forever be safe, for the rest of their lives. What had almost happened in the courtyard had been an isolated and very rare occurrence. It had been shocking for them, for everyone around them…except for Teyla. It had been almost devastating for her in that she had almost lost those she loved most dearly, but the violence, the fear and adrenaline, had been far from an isolated event. If anything, they had been far more familiar to her than the fear and love the event had provoked.

The empty space around her that set her away from the others in the room, emphasising her isolation from them all, suddenly felt more like a wide gulf or abyss. Her life was nothing like theirs, like anyone's in this room. The soft fabrics, perfectly painted faces, and elegantly draped hair was another world to her. A world only found in peace, in freedom away from the pains, death, and terror of the Wraith.

Which meant that her life's work was justified, that it really was worth everything she had perhaps given up had she chosen a different life for herself.

Her sister was safe to live a life as far from a frontline as Teyla could imagine. Zabetha could change the face of politics or adopt a hundred children for all Teyla could guess, but whatever she and Rhakshar chose to do with their lives, they had the freedom to choose it, because of the Elite and the Military. The warriors in the Alliance Military fighting everyday to protect and create more peace further out into the stars.

It did not matter that she was isolated from the masses across from her, that she did not care at the precise tidiness of her hair or the perhaps perceived imperfection of her bare face. All these people could fret and worry with such clear joyous nervousness because of all the good the Alliance had brought. Corruption and infighting aside, this was what the Alliance had been founded upon – peace and free trade between the stars. Teyla could not imagine a more perfect representation of that aim than in watching her sister grasp Rhakshar's hand - the two of them from such different worlds, that had the Wraith not been forced back, might never have met. But they both existed in freedom to meet, to trade, and to fall in love, because of the Alliance.

A call from the furthest door announced the hour, and Teyla watched Zabetha turn, her chin high, her smile perfect, and her beautiful dress shifting around her more elegantly than an Ancestor would have been capable. Rhakshar's family gathered in a long line behind his left shoulder, his mother touching a hand to his back, her concern clear at his strength to remain standing so long, but he simply nodded and smiled. Teyla had no doubt he would remain standing throughout the ceremony, for if his strength were not strong enough, the joy and happy will behind his shining eyes would keep him on his feet.

They were a most noble, elegant, and happy couple.

And then they both turned, looking back towards Teyla across the room.

"My Honoured Sister," Zabetha called, and Teyla realised it was her time to step away from her isolation and cross the room to fall into her place in this joyous spectacle.

At least for a short while, she could enjoy sharing their freedom a little longer.

Elkaska appeared as Teyla took her place, his jacket the smartest she had ever seen him wear. His hand squeezed her elbow, the sharing of affection somehow communicating his awareness of more than pleasure at seeing her and their mutual places at Zabetha's shoulder. She wondered how he perceived the nervous chatter and bubbling excitement around them. Did he too, from his own military past and normal near nomadic life, experience the same amused pleased view upon it all?

Another call from the doorway began the procession abruptly, all the chatter suddenly dropping away, as Rhakshar and Zabetha strode forward, leading their family towards the open doorway.

Teyla followed closely behind her sister's right shoulder, Elkaska behind her, as the only remaining family on Zabetha's side to walk with her, as the couple led the way through the doorway towards the promise of sunlight ahead. Rhakshar's mother, Aubel, walked behind Rhakshar's left shoulder, the long weighted length of her purple lined jacket and dress grazing the ground to Teyla's left, and Teyla glanced towards the older woman. A bright smile for her son lit the woman's face, along with the promise of tears hovering in her eyes, but it was a different smile that greeted Teyla's quick glance. Aubel dipped her head, a gesture common towards Elite, but there was familiarity behind the gesture now. An acknowledgement of new family perhaps, or perhaps gratitude for her being there, Teyla wasn't sure, but there was no time to consider further.

Sunlight fell over the couple as Rhakshar and Zabetha stepped out into the gathering courtyard. The doorway opened immediately into a tightly formed corridor of guests, their shoulders creating a wall that was only broken by the turning of curious faces.

Teyla felt a heavy veil fall upon her instantly with all the attention, of those not family or friends, now instead civilians and politicians. As she stepped out into the sunlight herself, Aubel on her left, she was acutely aware that she was once again entirely Elite. In one sudden moment her usual role had fallen into place, and she strode forward, chin high, and eyes forward as always. A small part of her strained against the shift back to normalcy, wishing for a moment longer to bask in her former philosophical and relaxed mood, but at her core she was, and always would be, an Elite.

As the aisle led around the side of the courtyard, Si and Halling came abruptly into her view, their wide shoulders and heavy weaponry standing out sharply in contrast to the brightly decorated wall at their backs and the coloured finery around them. Only they were the most welcome of sights for her, and though they stood tall and stoic, as she passed close by them, she saw the faintly amused acknowledgement from them both at her unusual garments. Halling bowed to Zabetha and Rhakshar as they passed him, an acknowledgement rarely ever paid by Elite to someone outside their own ranks. Teyla felt the reaction among the guests to the gesture almost as strongly as she was aware of the surprised stares at her own appearance. She kept her eyes forward though, walking with one aim, to follow Zabetha into the open space at the far side of the courtyard where Father stood, set to preside over the marriage ceremony.

Behind Father, flowers and bright coloured banners had been strung between the potted trees and plants, and as the decoration danced in the afternoon breeze, small metal chimes sung out gently.

Father stood tall and ready with his opening speech, of which she had read the draft form last night. His eyes were shining bright, the success of this political marriage, but also the joy for his daughter, making him seem the most pleased and proud of overseers for the ceremony.

Zabetha and Rhakshar turned to approach him and, only now, did they release each other's hand. A table, draped in pale green, stood before Father, and upon it sat the electronic versions of the marriage contract, which would be officially agreed and signed today in front of all the guests crushed into the gathering courtyard.

Only it was one guest alone whose attention Teyla swore she could feel upon her.

As she moved around past Zabetha, who now stood on one side of the table in front of Father, Teyla took her place, a few steps behind her sister, with Elkaska stood behind her in turn. Rhakshar stood at the far side of the small table, angled so that he faced both Zabetha and Father, whilst his family stood in a long line behind him.

Then, finally, Teyla allowed herself to look to the left, across the audience, all stood and sat in strict political order.

The long benches normally set in large arrangements in the gathering courtyard had been arranged in several long lines across the yard, creating seating for the most 'important' of guests. Sat at the centre of the front row sat a beaming Charin, and beside her Fovea, the High Councillor of Xinda. The benches around and behind them were as full as was possible, leaving the large space behind them as standing room only for the remaining wealth of guests. Teyla knew that John would be stood far in the back, for Atlantis, though clearly of growing importance, was currently unacknowledged by most. That Mr Woolsey and John were even here announced a great deal, but they would not be seated and they would likely be stood at the back. It would be unlikely that she could pick John out in the press of watching faces without close scrutiny, which she did not wish to risk.

Yet, as she glanced across the sea of faces, who were almost entirely focused on Father as he began his speech, she found herself suddenly meeting a set of eyes within the crowd, as if her gaze had been pulled there solely by his fixed attention.

As she had known, John was stood far back among those standing, but he had found space just large enough to give him a view of the ceremony. Only, his eyes were on her, and, despite the tiny amount of him that she could see, their gazes locked for a moment, all she could risk without drawing attention, but she saw enough in his eyes.

She saw his shared amusement at the spectacle, his appreciation for her dress, and the full detailed lingering memories of what they had shared together barely any time ago.

She broke her eyes away from him, struggling to control a girlish smile that threatened to spill out of her control, as she slid her gaze over the rest of the crowd as if nothing there really concerned her. She could not rest on anyone too long without appearing concerned someone might be a threat to others, which was normally what others interpreted the prolonged attention of an Elite. Most of the time they might be correct, but today she simply wished she could look at John a little longer.

Parting from him earlier had not felt too much of a weighted thing, for they had been in a corridor with others, and had both felt enlightened and relaxed still from their afternoon together. However, now, she knew that these last glances of him through the crowd would be her last for a while, perhaps forever.

She would not attend the political party after the ceremony, as Elite should not, so instead she had planned to meet with Halling and Si to enjoy the last of their leisure time before their new mission began tomorrow. Yet, now she wished she was free to do otherwise, that she could be like Zabetha and step into the party afterwards without hindrance, to perhaps enjoy a dance with John without it appearing unusual. Except that was not the way of Elite.

Once she returned to the Sythus tomorrow, she would soak herself back into her normal life. Her usual life that she loved. This had been one day, one afternoon, just a handful of hours truly. An enjoyable experience, but nothing beyond today.

And though she accepted that, she found herself seeking out John's gaze among the many once more, hoping for a few more seconds to enjoy the warming and enjoyable connection between them.

She would miss him.

But, life had to go on.

Elite fought onwards, always.

0000

It was a beautiful day for a wedding, the sky perfectly blue between patches of white fluffy clouds. The hot direct sunlight from earlier had passed, the Athosian sun having now lowered enough so that the tallest of the Governing Building's structures blocked most of it's strength. It also meant that the only sunlight across the courtyard cut only across the far end of the courtyard – shining brightly over Torren and the new couple. John had no doubt the location of the altar, or whatever it should be called, and the time of day had been carefully selected. Clearly there was something of the showman in Torren, but then that probably went with being a politician, whatever galaxy you were born.

His speech had been good too, with a few jokes thrown in around the heavy emphasis on new trade and the importance of trust and mutual growth. Woolsey had nodded and angled his head at times in response to what Torren had said, clearly interpreting the politician speech for its underlying meanings.

Only John wasn't interested in the meanings and underlying messages, he was only interested when Woolsey's subtle head nods momentarily blocked his already limited view of Teyla.

She looked stunning.

She looked like a goddess, a warrior princess stood tall and proud, her skin glowing in the sunlight, and the summer breeze stirring her dress around her legs just enough to hint at the elegant womanly shape of her beneath the folds of fabric.

Her eyes slid towards him again, allowing just a moment of connection before she looked away again. To others it probably looked like she was keeping a close eye on the crowd, looking for danger, as Halling and Si seemed to be doing at the side of the courtyard. Like two big bouncers, their height and shoulders proclaimed that no one had better not even think bad thoughts towards the couple who were now reaching out to take each other's hand.

Torren held his hands up and began a prayer to the Ancients, and John sensed the end of the ceremony approaching far too quickly.

He snapped his attention back to Teyla, uncaring if he wasn't being subtle anymore. It wasn't like there was anyone behind him and Woolsey; they were literally at the back of the pack, pretty much pressed up against the back wall of the courtyard.

Torren's prayer ended and he proclaimed the couple married, which was followed immediately with applause. John automatically put his hands together, but his eyes remained on Teyla. She was clapping with a smile on her lips, her eyes on her sister, who was turning and waving to the audience. Rhakshar beside her seemed to be doing well for his injury, though it was clear that most of his weight was now on one leg. John was pleased for the guy, for not only had he finally gotten his girl, but he had survived interrogation by Honoured Elite Emmagan.

John's eyes returned to Teyla, to see she was now exchanging smiling words with her uncle, Elkaska.

Just look round one more time.

Just one more time.

The guests in the front rows began to stand as the applause continued, blocking John's view. He shifted to one side, rising up on his toes to see as best he could as the married couple began moving across the open space, moving back towards the aisle down which they had arrived.

John shifted further to his left, using his elbow more than was politically correct, to wedge himself further between two talking guests who seemed more interested in discussing trade than watching the wedding party leave.

Between heads and shoulders, John could see Teyla moving across the open space behind her sister. Only the guests were all moving, obscuring her, as they turned to watch the wedding procession head towards the side aisle that would lead them back into the building and out of view.

John turned, dipping and rising on his toes to try and see better, which afforded him glimpses of Teyla as she moved into the side aisle. She was petite though, which meant that he could only see her hair and the faintest small hints of her moving beyond the tightly pressed crowd.

He fixed his attention on her progress though, hoping for just the smallest of moments to see her again clearly. Maybe for the last time.

Only the wedding party was almost at the door at the far back corner of the courtyard. She would be gone soon.

Except that he was in the very back row, and the wedding party's exit was in the far end of the back wall. He stepped back, up against the wall, and looked down the tiny space behind the backs of the back row guests, and he saw Rhakshar and Zabetha appear for a moment. He saw them in full view as they paused and waved to their guests once more, and then disappeared into the building.

Teyla would be right behind them.

John pressed his back further against the wall, his gaze fixed on that tiny space where he would have a single last moment to see her.

He hadn't really allowed himself to think about 'the last time'. He had simply enjoyed every moment that he could with her today. Celebrating the chance to just forget about anything but being with her, of being just John, talking with and kissing Teyla. They had known it had been a finite time together, away from everyone else. Just the two of them.

Only now, there was a crush of people around him. Political figures, opinions and worries already being discussed, trade agreements and military pressures being considered even during the applause for a marriage. All John fixed his attention on was that slip of space through which she had to pass. Teyla. He fixed the moment in his mind so that he could remember it always. The last months meeting and working with the Elite had been crazy and amazing, and today…

He felt somehow both happy for it all, but also achingly desperate that she not appear, because it would be the end of it. The end of a fantastic journey with her, not just across alien stars and through such different cultures, but personally so too.

He just had to see her face once more, to maybe see her eyes.

Golden skin and elegant dress slid into his sliver of a view, filling it with her presence in an instant, and he took a breath, as if it would hold the second longer.

Her head turned towards him, her eyes sliding into view, seeking, in that split second, across the faces, targeting his, and for a sudden moment they looked at each other again.

There was no one between them, just a line of smartly dressed guest backs and shoulders on one side and white painted wall on the other.

He smiled at her, delighted and relieved at having this one last chance. A stolen moment at the back of the courtyard, unseen by anyone. For just a small tiny moment.

He saw the lifting for her lips, just enough to be a smile without anyone guessing maybe, and then her momentum carried her forward - her face turned away, her eyes lowering for a fraction as she moved into the shadow of the doorway, and then she was gone.

The applause continued loud and harsh around John as lowered his own eyes, and wished that he didn't feel like something inside him had just broken.

Through the tight press of guests, one set of eyes was focused on him though. If John had seen Sitayi' purple gaze he might have seen sympathy in them, but if he had looked closer he might have seen the joy.

0000  
>Continue on to the last chapter...<p> 


	40. Epilogue

**Chapter 40 - Epilogue**

000

It was late, but he was used to not sleeping, or rather, putting off sleep for more important things. No one else had his dedication. His determination.

He was getting tired though.

Rodney reached for his latest mug of coffee in a bid to fight back the annoying need of his body to want to waste hours to unconsciousness. He had far too much to do.

Only he wasn't working on his many important and vital projects. He glanced across the quiet lab towards two of them in particular. He needed to get that back up generator fixed, not that he couldn't get it done in a few minutes, but it was basic boring work that he could do quickly tomorrow.

He bit the inside of his lip. Of course, if something were to happen to a working generator and they needed this backup he might get into trouble. Maybe he should fix it now.

He glanced down at the contorted blackened piece of Ancient tech that Sheppard had brought back from the Athosian carnival. It wasn't really worth his time to work on it, he had the generator to fix, and he needed to work on those three interfaces…

His interest in the mangled piece of Ancient space junk was probably due to the strange grating buzz the thing put out. Sheppard was right – it was annoying in a strange way. Rodney had never seen Ancient tech do that before, and it was likely why it was bothering him. He hated things he couldn't understand.

He had gotten into one side of the chunk of tech, but that side had turned out to be too badly damaged, so he had prised open the other side of it and had managed to get to the innermost live connections inside. Linking it up to the laptop hadn't worked, so he had linked it up to one of the Ancient screens in the lab set aside for the database research.

However, the broken caked device had been too scrambled to connect properly with the computer, so he had spent hours working to find a work around. He had tried several different patches, trying to get the lump, of what had better not turn out to be some teenage Ancient's journal, to talk to the Ancient computer.

His latest attempt had just failed. He should really work on the generator and not worry over something so small. It was probably something really insignificant.

Only that grating buzz itched against his fingertips, like it was urging him to work out how to get into the thing. Like it was taunting him.

He had one last idea, but it probably wouldn't work.

He sipped some coffee and glanced back to the broken generator.

He set his cold coffee down and reached for what he would need for the last chance patch. He set it up quickly enough, clipping Ancient wires to a tray of crystals he had acquired out of a Jumper. He then reached into the twisted open side of the device and pulled aside two faintly glowing wires. He prodded the glowing crystals inside as he contemplated which would be the most likely way to connect the boost of power.

"Are you not supposed to be working on fixing the generator?" Zelenka's voice arrived abruptly behind Rodney's shoulder, startling him. He barely managed to contain his surprised girlish cry. He really shouldn't sit with his back to the door.

"Is there a reason why you're haunting the hallways late at night?" Rodney spat back, making sure not to look away from the device in which his fingers were buried. "Don't you know it's rude to sneak up on people," he added as he peered deeper into the twisted tech, frowning at the strange arrangement inside. It was almost as if someone had designed this thing to be as difficult to break into as possible.

"Like you're the best teacher on what is rude," Zelenka muttered just loud enough for Rodney to hear.

"I have plenty of time to fix the generator. If you want to be helpful, then you can fix it yourself," Rodney replied, pleased at the possible opportunity of getting the generator fixed without him having to do it.

"It's two in the morning, Rodney," Zelenka replied in an annoyingly condescending tone.

"Yes, I can read a clock, thank you," Rodney spat back as he clipped the wire home on the crystal that was his best guess. He hated having to keep his fingers in the twisted box, the buzzing felt like it had started to travel up his arms with its insisting 'fix me' vibe. He was doing his best.

"Colonel Carter is not going to be pleased if the backup generator is not functioning properly tomorrow," Zelenka supplied unhelpfully.

Rodney ignored that comment as he stood up to complete the link up to the Ancient computer. "Why are you even here?" He asked looking round at Zelenka for the first time.

"I have insomnia," Zelenka replied simply, his attention on the device whilst Rodney plugged it into the computer's terminal.

Rodney shrugged dismissively at what he considered a helpful condition as he finished the connection and began to return to his stool. "If you want something to occupy your time," he suggested gesturing to the generator.

Only Zelenka didn't respond, he was staring over Rodney's shoulder. "Rodney," he uttered pointing.

Rodney turned to see that the Ancient screen was alive with data suddenly. "Yes, I knew it," he muttered as he scrambled back to the Ancient console.

"It is incomplete," Zelenka uttered from his side.

"Yes, I can see that," Rodney replied as he tapped away at the large Ancient command panels. "It's definitely Ancient."

"If we run it through a-"

"Yes, yes, I know what to do," Rodney protested.

Honestly, anyone would think he wasn't the foremost expert on Ancient tech. Except, maybe there were people in the Alliance who had had more experience than him. He wondered what Ancient facilities and technology they had found in the Alliance's vast territory. He was itching to take a look inside the Athosian's Ancient Gateway.

The repair programme had managed to compile much of the data, but it was clear that there were large holes in the stream. It was also clearly encrypted.

"It must have been very badly damaged to be in such a state," Zelenka said quietly as he watched Rodney begin the decryption.

"Re-entry will do that," Rodney replied offhandedly as he watched the computer recognise the encryption.

"It is likely a piece of an Ancient satellite or perhaps a ship," Radek theorised as they watched the computer working the data through another repair programme without being prompted.

"Which is why I've been putting so much of my time into it," Rodney lied, "Unlike some people swaggering off to alien wedding ceremonies."

"If it is of any consolation, Major Sheppard did not look all that pleased when he returned from Athos," Zelenka replied. "I think he is not overly pleased with the decision that he is to be an ambassador."

Rodney barely heard him because abruptly the Ancient screen had shifted and a face was staring back at them, speaking hurriedly in Ancient. A face full of panic and fear.

"It's a recording!" Radek said, stating the obvious. "We need the translation…"

"Yes, yes, yes," Rodney replied as he quickly grabbed his laptop and set it on the computer console.

The Ancient man's voice was broken up with static and brief stuttering pauses, which only added to the agitated atmosphere that his panicked voice created against Rodney's nerves, so he muted it. Rodney worked to ignore the man's face though, at least as long as it took for the laptop to download the file while it was running. Once the file ran through fully again, he stopped the Ancient computer and started up the translation programme on the laptop's version of the recording.

It took a few long seconds, through which Rodney nervously watched and tried to ignore the paused Ancient face staring anxiously out of the Ancient screen.

"Okay, it's done," Zelenka interrupted.

Rodney thought about saying something sarcastic, but he couldn't help feeling nervous himself. He could already see that the backdrop behind the Ancient man looked like the bridge of an Ancient warship, which meant that this recording was likely a black box recording. These were likely the last moments of an Ancient ship and its captain.

He triggered the recording to play on the laptop with the translation running in text below it. He muted the Ancient's fearful voice again immediately.

"…_Atlantis. Had…abandon the…a near…containment breach... The experiments…. broken in and….complete devastation. …entire facility…en lost. The breach….all ships…the Skerti surprised us…we are the last. Contai…holding…now. I fear there…no time for us to reach…the Wraith have found us…back to…tell my family…Atlantis you must not let…Wraith and Skerti…never… …stop the Skerti..."_

A sudden fiery explosion filled the space behind the Ancient and he cried out in pain as he fell aside out of the camera's view. Flames rushed towards the screen and it abruptly went dead.

A sharp cold chill ran up Rodney's spine as he stared at the dark screen, the Ancient captain's last words in clear white text all that was left on the screen.

"…_stop the Skerti…"_

Rodney looked round at Zelenka next to him, whose worried eyes were round with shock.

"Who or what are the Skerti?"

00000  
>THE END<p> 


End file.
